In Want of a Prime Directive
by herongale
Summary: De-anoning from the TFkinkmeme to post this here. The request was for awkward, bitter Starscream/Skyfire, either their first meeting or first hook up. I decided to go for both. Here's everything so far! Starscream is VERY bitter.
1. Meeting

+ meeting +

_You don't need to do this_, Skyfire thought to himself as he wended his way through the seedy desolation of Kaon. _No one will blame you if you don't_. It was both advice he was giving to himself and a reminder of advice given to him by others: in either case, advice he intended to ignore.

However, it was not easy advice to forget, not when he was wandering through trash-strewn streets. He was soon to be promoted to senior research fellow and there were several professors at the university who would be happy to take him on. Ecstatic, in fact. He'd already received several offers, and none of _those_ had involved picking his way through a hellhole on his way to an establishment of ill repute.

Skyfire tried not to look wary; he wore the mark of a military mech, which helped, and he was tall, which helped even more. But he was a shuttle class. "You're halfway an Autobot already," a friend had told him once, intending it for a compliment.

Skyfire supposed it was at least halfway a compliment.

The demographics of Kaon were nothing like those of Iacon. Back home Skyfire was used to being a minority specimen, standing out amongst his civilian counterparts. Even if he wasn't exactly feared, no one messed around with him, and that was agreeable because Skyfire was not a fan of conflict. But here he could be just another off-duty soldier for all anyone knew, and in a city where everyone else was armed, Skyfire looked a lot more like a mark than a shark.

Slag, he'd already been propositioned a few times. Follower mechs and femmes strolled the streets as common as trash, and most of the offers had been vulgar and specific: full-on interface for a few amps of high grade. Even before his meeting Skyfire felt vaguely traumatized.

In the end Skyfire had to consult his map three times just to be sure his optics weren't playing pranks on him when he finally reached the assigned destination. He knew beforehand that it was some kind of officer's club, very much of the Decepticonish variety, but what that actually meant had been unclear. A part of him must have expected neon signs and a milling crowd: trappings of a normal bar, basically. But this looked like a factory, and an active one at that: steam jetted from exposed pipes, and a loud clanging noise emitted from the building. The building stood splendidly isolated at the end of an alley, and it seemed both too large and too deserted to be a place for any kind of meetings. Nobody around at all.

"Halt!"

Or maybe it was just an illusion. Skyfire had only just started walking again when a guard slipped out from behind a partition at the entrance, rugged and severe with an unrepaired scar across his chest. The guard was pointing a gun at him. Skyfire put his hands up immediately, making sure that the admission chip he'd been sent was visible between his fingers. He wanted to say something, anything, to point out he'd been invited or perhaps to say that this was all a hideous mistake, but his vocalizers snagged on a single vowel and would have gone into terminal repeat if he hadn't hastily cut the feed. A slight shuffling behind him indicated the presence of a second guard, cutting off escape.

Some club. Skyfire hoped to Primus that whatever they were guarding wasn't as bad as the reception committee.

The first guard approached slowly and suspiciously, one hand on his still-aimed weapon, the other held out, fingers twitching in a gimme gesture. Slow and careful, Skyfire brought down one arm and produced the chip, dropping it thankfully into the guard's hand. He didn't want to think about what would happen if he didn't have a pass.

Someday he supposed that he'd technically achieve an officer's rank, an honorarium extended to all professional-class Decepticons, even those holding civilian roles. He'd get to come to places like this by right. But would he?

Doubtful. Extremely doubtful.

"He checks out," the guard called out whoever was behind him, and Skyfire heard a slight growling whine of disappointment. It was not easy for Skyfire to hold back a shudder as the first guard waved him on by with his gun.

The walls to this factory-fortress must have been impressively soundproofed, because despite the clanging echoing silence outside, Skyfire was struck with an oppressive wall of sound. Probably music, although none that he cared for, and more like what he'd expected, actually. He'd never thought to imagine the furnace-like heat slowing his actuators, however. It made him feel oddly sluggish, as if he'd been drugged: likely an intentional effect.

_/There you are./_

Despite having exchanged social comm keys, Skyfire still felt a bit jarred to be signaled so abruptly. No hello, no introduction: just a voice in his head commenting on his presence in what was possibly the most sneering, insultingly sweet manner ever.

Skyfire narrowed his optics, looking around for the origin of that signal. He had the mech's public specs, so he had a fairly precise idea of who he was looking for, but it still took a few sweeps to find him. Inside the club was filled with flyers, Seekers mostly, but also Triplechangers and Combiners. Lots of sleek military mechs, and not a few sleek military femmes. It was rather intimidating actually; Skyfire was taller than most of them, but in a crowd of gleaming, high-end instruments of warcraft, he felt ungainly and crude. If he'd went the standard soldiering route, Skyfire could never have hoped to stand at this level.

The Seeker that Skyfire wanted was off in a corner, sitting at a table with several empty energon flasks, some tipped over. He was not alone. A Chopper mech was standing behind him, stroking the tops of his wings, and a femme Seeker was sitting beside him, talking animatedly, with a seductive look on her face as she looked at the Academy professor Skyfire wanted to work with.

Starscream. Notorious Starscream, a mech for whom little good was ever said. Well, sure, everyone acknowledged his brilliance, and his publications were elegant works of art. But he was also reputed to be lazy, lecherous, arrogant, petty, middling cruel. No one had ever accused him of being half Autobot, that was certain. Said Notorious Seeker was watching Skyfire from across the room, a mysterious half-smile tugging at his lips as he ignored both the ministrations of his male companion and the conversation of the femme.

This was certainly going to be the strangest interview ever. If not the worst. Skyfire's spark clutched: figuratively, of course. If only he could cut that feed as easily as the one controlling his voice.

_/I-I'm Skyfire. Hello./_

He began to walk over slowly, keeping his gaze as steady as he could, ignoring the nervousness creeping through his various mental processes like a mechanamoeba. Obviously Starscream knew who he was, but Skyfire didn't regret giving his name anyway: that was what civilized mechs did. Being civil was his strongest asset; Skyfire didn't care if it was ill-fitting here, he refused to bend who he was just to fit in. He didn't want to be intimidated, even though he certainly felt that way.

Skyfire revved his cooling fans, attempting to dissipate at least a little bit of the excess heat.

_/Nice to meet you./_ The mocking tone was unmistakable. Still no formal introduction, but Skyfire knew better than to expect one. _/You're very… white./_

Against his will, Skyfire broke into a smile. Even a small bark of a laugh. What?

_/Not tall?/_

He was almost at the table, having walked around several other groups of Decepticons, as well as crossing through a corner of the dance floor. Starscream's smile widened when he noticed Skyfire's surprised laugh. _/Not particularly./ _

For a moment Skyfire thought that this might not turn out to be an unmitigated disaster after all.

But then the storied professor pulled the femme into his lap.

Skyfire dropped his smile.

_/Thanks for meeting with me./_ He said formally, coming up to the edge of the table but refusing to sit down. _/I hope not to take up too much of your time./_

If Skyfire's sudden coldness annoyed Starscream it didn't show in his face. The Seeker nodded to the chair opposite him. _/Sit down. I'm buying, so drink whatever you want./_

Seating himself slowly, mechanically, Skyfire couldn't help but wince when Starscream's partner started to kiss and grope his body. That was… disgusting. No, it was beyond disgusting. Who did that sort of thing in public? Especially when entertaining a guest? Skyfire might be the supplicant here, but he was still a guest. Everyone had said that Starscream was rude, but nothing had prepared him for how rude.

Well, it wasn't too late for second thoughts. Skyfire would sit through this so-called interview, but that didn't mean he had to accept a fellowship with this mech, even on the extremely rare chance that he'd even be offered one. Among the many things Starscream was notorious for was the fact that he never took on assistants. But it was also true that he almost never granted interviews either: Skyfire had felt so giddy to have even been accepted to meet, back when he'd first sent out his applications. Now he just wanted it to be over with.

Skyfire grabbed a half-filled flask of high grade and kicked back the rest, for once not caring that he was taking some else's leavings. Whatever he wanted? Why place an order when so much energon was just sitting around? His eyes flashed defiantly.

_/Wow, that's gross./_ Starscream looked impressed. "Can you hear me?" He shouted, shrill above the din.

"Just barely." Skyfire shouted back. _/But I'd rather talk like this./_

_/That's fine./ _The Chopper, apparently pouting because he was being ignored, slunk around to the front, and actually knelt down next to Starscream, playing with the underside of his wing and then grabbing his hand to kiss it. _/Don't mind the furniture./ _Starscream finally looked away, smile going down the two Decepticons servicing him. His attention soon returned to Skyfire, the look in his eyes strangely cold despite the smile.

Skyfire's jaw dropped: he knew that he must look so appalled, but he didn't even care. He took a quick glance around to see if anyone else was as outraged as he was, but none of the other Decepticons in the club even seemed to notice. In fact, over on the dance floor Skyfire caught flashes of more than one naked interface unit, and even some mech flashing his spark, giggling to his companions.

_/Is it… always like this?/_ Skyfire managed not to sound too strangled, a task made slightly easier because his treacherous vocalizer unit was not being pressed into service. _/You like it here?/_ He knew his tone was unbelieving, even challenging, but how could he possibly carry on a discussion about xenodetics in this environment? This was no interview. How could it possibly be?

_/You don't?/_ Starscream turned the question back on him, but for some reason his gaze became… warmer, somehow.

_/It has nothing to do with science!/ _

_/Oh, I don't know about that./ _Starscream reached out to stroke the Chopper's face absently. _/It's a good study in Decepticon behavior./_ The femme was falling out of Starscream's lap, getting down on her knees so as to put her mouth… no! Skyfire could not control the shaking in his limbs. _/That's why you applied with me./_ Skyfire felt his spark grow cold. _/Isn't it?/ _Starscream's voice over private commlink was soft, even as it overrode all the real noise in the room.

_/Low blow./_ Skyfire shot back, knowing there was justice in Starscream's words but not wanting to be cowed by them. If he thought about it too hard he knew that he'd find truth there, but what was the point of looking that hard? Skyfire was at least Decepticon enough not to feel the need to agonize over his words. _/Isn't that why you accepted my application?/_

_/Fair./ _Starscream looked away, smiling down at his companions. He leaned in, pressing his lips against the mech's audials, and then waved for him to get up. "Later," Starscream shouted, grabbing the mech's hand and kissing his fingertips. That looked so insincere but somehow the Chopper bought it, and walked away looking satisfied. "Bring back some high grade before you go!" _/Now I'm down to one toy. Is that easier?/_

Easier? For whom? Skyfire laughed without humor. _/I'm not coming over there./_

_/I'm not inviting./_ Starscream paused, and then proceeded to give Skyfire the most thorough once-over with his eyes. _/Well, not today./_

Amazing how someone could be so seductive and repulsive simultaneously. _/For your information, I have a girlfriend./ _Skyfire had to look away; the roving gaze had felt almost as invasive as true touch, and it made him feel dirty._ /The only thing I'm auditioning for is to be your assistant./_ He was starting to overheat; how much of that was the ambient temperature, and how much was coming from him? _/Lab assistant./_

_/Done./_ Starscream grabbed one of the half-finished flasks and downed it quickly, almost exactly replicating Skyfire's gesture from earlier. "Done," he shouted, holding up the empty flask and waving it high. A service mech responded promptly, rolling over with a tray of high grade.

Done? Skyfire searched Starscream's face, looking for any hint of facetiousness, but found none. _/Why?/_

_/Two reasons./ _Starscream moaned a little as the femme skillfully popped his interface unit open, stroking the pronged plug and slipping the cable between her fingers. _/Your thesis. It was good./ _Starscream placed a hand on the femme's cockpit and began to stroke it possessively. _/Also, you stood up to me./ _The femme was now flicking the metal prongs against Starsceam's own port, threatening to autoplug him. Skyfire forced himself to watch._ /Oh… and there is a third reason./_

If Starscream said "because you're a Decepticon, like me," Skyfire would walk. No exceptions.

Even if he was reluctantly finding himself slightly intrigued.

_/I like white./_

Skyfire couldn't help it. He burst out laughing. What the slag?

_/Is that a yes?/ _Starscream's eyes were back on him, and he looked dead serious.

"Yes." Skyfire shouted, feeling strangely giddy. He might regret this in the morning. No, he knew he would. But he also had intended to take this position if it were offered. Originally, that was. Before all... this. However, just because Skyfire had been knocked off balance by the style of the presentation didn't mean that Starscream wasn't taking him seriously. That made a difference.

Maybe Starscream was a Decepticon and a complete and utter pervert, but Skyfire found that these things didn't bother him as much as he imagined they would.

Well, he was a Decepticon too. And not just by half._ /Yes./_

Starscream reached across the table, with one free hand, clearly offering for Skyfire to shake it. Hesitatingly, overheat warnings flashing, he took it.

_/Welcome on board./_ Starscream paused, and his eyes flashed, and he was smiling. _/Professor./_

. + .

**Author's Note**: this was originally posted at the Transformers kinkmeme. I am posting it here because it is going to take me longer than I thought to get to the last three or four chapters, and staying anon is obviously not helping me to finish it any faster. Anyway: this story is at least allegedly slated to have some smut down the line, so it is rated according to future events. :)


	2. Transit

+ transit +

"Why doesn't transgalactic warp technology exist yet?"

Skyfire didn't blame Starscream for the desperate tone in his voice; for the last several orns they'd been in transit through intergalactic space, and over that time Skyfire had been able to chart the evolution of Starscream's staged descent into terminal boredom.

First stage had been industry: Starscream with datapads of unsorted experimental data, spending a full orn just getting those into shape. Next had been recreation: Starscream stretching out and watching holovids, the contents of which were so scandalous that Skyfire completely terminated his internal hold monitoring a few times. Third stage had been overcharging on energon and then falling into an extended period of recharge.

And now he was at stage four: chatter.

Skyfire had seen this all before, with colleagues far more patient than Starscream.

"Because then I'd be out of a job?" Skyfire adjusted his internal surveillance cameras to get a good look at Starscream's expression: petulant ennui. The Seeker was sitting on one of the side benches, head turned towards the front of the shuttle. Looking up. Skyfire could see him from several angles, but the best was from the camera Starscream was facing. Starscream invariably chose that same camera whenever he wanted to address Skyfire directly: an interesting personal quirk, not shared by many.

"Obsolescence is a necessary by-product of intentional evolution." Dismissive. Still, Skyfire was not fooled.

"I think we'd be better served developing more efficient fuel, so then you could fly too."

"Ahh." Starscream nodded, optics flickering offline as he sighed.

Uh-oh. Was that good? Or bad?

This trip was exceedingly nerve-wracking for Skyfire. Their first mission out, and they were headed for a system halfway across the galaxy, deep in the central bulge of stars. It was crucial that he and Starscream develop a decent working rapport, because they'd be spending half a stellar cycle together on this, the maiden voyage of what would hopefully turn out to be a long and fruitful professional association. Contact with home would be limited; for most of the time the only entertainment they'd have would be each other. Skyfire wasn't sure yet what sort of conversation Starscream needed in order to be entertained, but he knew it was his responsibility to figure that out. And soon: space madness was a not uncommon sickness, especially amongst hull-bound Seekers.

It was too bad; the longer expedition meant that fuel needed to be conserved, which meant that Starscream couldn't take flight breaks even if he desperately needed them. And of course, the longer the mission, the more desperate such needs would be.

"We'll be stopping near Al Dafirah in three orns." Skyfire tried not to sound too gentle. He knew that would backfire horribly if he did.

"I know." Starscream frowned, and he shook one of his legs, ailerons also twitching slightly. "Doesn't matter, since there's no possibility of refueling. Won't get that until Kissin." The tone of rebuke was muted; Starscream appeared a bit too wan to be up to his usual snappish form.

This really wasn't good. It wasn't like Starscream was low on energy; the problem was all one of the mind.

Skyfire simply needed to try harder.

As an academic, Skyfire had not been pressed into shuttle service as often as others of his kind. But it had been often enough: Skyfire had learned a few tricks on how to keep passengers entertained. He was actually fairly proud of his hospitality skills. Perhaps it was time to start putting those skills to use. "Would you like to play a game? I know several. Puzzle games, strategy games…"

"Games?" Starscream onlined his optics, and turned to look at "his" camera, which was apparently Starscream's version of staring Skyfire directly down. "_Games?_"

Okay, maybe not.

"Just a thought." A thought Skyfire was planning on putting out of his mind forever.

Before he could worry too hard, however, Starscream smiled. A mean, superior smile, but still a smile. "Don't treat me like an Autobot." His words were rough, but he didn't sound angry. Starscream sat up a bit straighter.

"I wasn't." Skyfire said, a bit defensively as he remembered that all of his previous passengers had, in fact, been Autobots.

"Why do Autobots like games so much, anyway?" Starscream put his hands behind his head and leaned back, but this time his optics remained lit, steady. "It's like they think learning can't be fun unless you're tricked."

Demonstrably untrue. "If the Autobots really felt that way, then why would they have academies to begin with? And you work at one; don't you know enough Autobots to answer your own question?"

"Yeah, sure. But I'll never have the _insider's perspective_ you've been graced with. So tell me."

So at least Starscream was roused. Perhaps being annoyed (and annoying) was a comfortable state for him. Skyfire tried hard not to feel stung, knowing exactly what Starscream was referring to and knowing that Starscream wasn't calling him an Autobot. Even though it very much sounded like it. Starscream was the passenger; he was testy, suffering cabin fever because he didn't have access to the inputs Skyfire did.

Perhaps that was a part of the problem.

Skyfire remained silent for some time. Starscream continued to frown challengingly, and it was obvious he wasn't going to back down and didn't care if Skyfire had taken offense. Slag, he was probably intentionally trying to pick a fight. A fight might help solve the immediate problem of Starscream's boredom, but at what cost? There had to be another way. Ignoring Starscream's glare, Skyfire thought over the situation slowly and thoroughly, waiting until he'd found a solution he liked. One he thought would work.

"Hey, Starscream?" Quiet, calm. There would be no fight if he could help it. "Would you like to access my external sensor monitors? It's not the same as flying yourself, but still…"

"Huh?" Starscream's frown changed in character, from grumpy to confused. But it didn't take long for him to shift gears, and realize that Skyfire was changing the subject. And what he was changing the subject to. "Why would you do that?" His question wasn't challenging, but almost wistful, in a way.

Starscream really must not be used to Autobots, if he didn't understand such a fundamental concept of data sharing. "I know how to partition the feeds just fine. It's read-only data, and you won't get anywhere near my core systems, but. Well. I think you'd like it." Skyfire felt shy offering; even though data sharing was an Autobot norm, _he'd_ never felt comfortable with it either, and usually avoided it whenever possible. "I don't do this with just anyone," he said, shyer still.

It would be nice to get Starscream on his side. To stop thinking of him as some kind of obscure rival.

"Not even with your girlfriend?" Starscream stood to get even closer to the camera, bringing his face weirdly close. His tone was teasing; that meant that his mood had improved. Good.

"She doesn't count." Skyfire said this loftily. "So are you interested?"

"_Yes_."

The eagerness was a bit disconcerting; it reminded Skyfire of how Starscream was when he was, well. Well. No need to dwell on how Starscream sometimes _was_. "I'm only giving you the sensory data."

Starscream smirked. He obviously knew what Skyfire was implying. "That's fine. I don't need your feelings to make me enjoy it." He looked around, and Skyfire was interested to note that the sneering posture dropped as soon as his face was turned from that one camera. Starscream looked almost absurdly serious, gaze darting here and there swiftly as he looked for the necessary port.

Skyfire opened a panel near where Starscream had been sitting. "Behind you. To the right."

Pressing a finger to his lips, Starscream became thoughtful. Possibly trying to decide which of his several probes would be the most easy to use. Possibly considering something else. In any case, eventually Starscream opened a panel just above his wrist in the forearm, and gently unspooled a thin universal Cybertronian port. He turned to plug himself in, and immediately Skyfire opened the streaming channel he'd generated specifically for Starscream.

Skyfire's external hull was probably designed to be even more sensitive than that of a Seeker; while in space he set sensitivity to maximum, so he could catch every ping of cosmic rays bouncing off the plating. He was also listening, the waxing and waning murmur of electromagnetic static tantalizingly suggestive, sometimes, of residual sentient transmissions. And of course he could also see, the slow crawl through space made bearable by the continual charting of perceptual changes in star position. The data was a sea of coded numbers, which spoke to programming algorithms only another flight mechanism would share.

He'd never give this sort of data to an Autobot. It would be a waste of time.

Starscream settled in, offlining his optics again. He no longer looked wan.

"How is it?" Skyfire asked, after some time had passed.

Starscream didn't stir, but his entire posture oozed contentment. "Nominal." It seemed like that might be all he had to say, but after a few more moments he added, "In answer to your earlier question, I avoid Autobots. So I probably make a lot of assumptions based on insufficient data." He lowered his hands to the bench, thrumming his fingers lightly over the insensate metal. "I know they took you in early on."

It wasn't bad picking up the conversation from earlier if Starscream was going to be like this. Thoughtful instead of vindictive. Skyfire felt happy: it looked like his plan was paying off. "They did," Skyfire admitted. He wasn't ashamed of this truth, so long as it wasn't being cast up to him as some kind of stinging aspersion.

"It bothers me that they mine for electrum and treat other Decepticons like slag." Starscream's tone was apologetic, and in a way his words were too.

"Yeah, me too." This was one of the problems he'd been struggling with back on Cybertron. Autobots had a bad habit of descending into Decepticon cities and offering "skills tests" to any interested participants, selecting only the best and brightest in order to come to their golden cities. The standard Autobot argument was that there was no point in offering an education where it wasn't wanted, and that your average Decepticon had no interest in anything but warfare. But it was the Decepticons who were sent out again and again to fight Cybertron's wars, securing the energon needs of the entire planet.

Maybe it was true that most Decepticons wouldn't take an education even if it was laced with high grade, but the Decepticons shared their resources freely enough. Autobots were… more selective.

"What was it like?"

Skyfire considered the question carefully. He'd been destined for hard labor ever since coming off the assembly line in Kaon: shuttles were grunts, not warriors, and didn't garner much esteem within Decepticon society. He wouldn't have had a chance for a different life if it hadn't been for the Autobots and their skills testing, and he found early on that he loved science, loved the process of research and data analysis, and these were opportunities the Decepticons never would have given him. It was hard to blame the Autobots for the fact that they didn't offer an education to all the Decepticons, when the Decepticons didn't seem to care to offer one to any of them unless they'd been specifically built to be scientists. Or if they otherwise came from a privileged class. Like the Seekers.

To speak to what it was like was to ask Skyfire which society he liked better. And even though he had some criticisms of the Autobots, he… fit in better, there.

Did he trust Starscream enough to admit it?

"I made a lot of friends in Iacon," Skyfire said at last. "And my girlfriend is an Autobot, as you know. So, I'd say overall it was good. I've enjoyed my life so far."

"How did they treat you?"

In another situation, Skyfire might find it annoying to be quizzed like this. But it was his job to make sure Starscream was diverted, and he found himself eager to continue. Even though the questions were a bit difficult. Skyfire had never been the sort to enjoy talking about himself. "I wasn't discriminated against, if that's what you mean. But I was treated different, sometimes."

"I see." Starscream smiled a little.

What more could he say? Skyfire was a poor historian and an even poorer storyteller.

He was still considering what to say next when Starscream opened his mouth again. "So why do Autobots like games, anyway?" Starscream's smile widened. "_Professor_."

Erm. This again. Skyfire felt this weird little thump in his spark whenever Starscream called him "professor." Since he wasn't a real professor, just a professor's lackey, it was more like a mocking nickname than anything. It would feel the same way if another Decepticon called him "soldier." The title felt like a pretense, one he was not worthy to bear. But Starscream always said it in this teasing, insinuating voice that felt more like a come-on than a put-down. It was very conflicting and managed to catch Skyfire off-guard whenever it happened. Therefore, he just tossed off the first reason that popped into his head. "Because they're fun, I suppose."

"Bah!"

"…Bah?"

"Fun is a good, hard interface." It was difficult to take Starscream's rancor seriously. "Fun is high-speed aerial combat." Not when he was slipping off the bench to lie on the floor (his favorite recharge position), keeping his hand hooked up so as not to miss a single exciting installment of cosmic action. "_Fun_ is a new scientific discovery or implementing a well-designed experiment." Fun also, apparently, was complete and utter sloth. Starscream continued. "What fun is _not_ are these moronic little imaginary experiences where there are no real stakes and no real rewards."

Skyfire laughed. The contrast between the indignant rant and Starscream's indolent pose was too much. "Fun is also a nice long recharge?"

"Yes." Starscream responded as if Skyfire were being completely serious. "Fun is something you do. Not something you pretend to do."

Practical. Bleak. "I see your point." It was a very Decepticon point of view.

"Do you?" Starscream sounded neither skeptical nor convinced. "When we get to Al Dafirah, remind me to teach you some basic combat maneuvers."

Combat maneuvers?

"For fun, I suppose." Skyfire could not help but sound dry.

"Naturally."

Combat maneuvers. Skyfire thought it over, and decided the idea was not as terrible as it sounded. It hadn't been long after his activation that he'd been ushered to Iacon, and so he'd missed all but the most rudimentary training. And although he'd not been designed for frontline warfare, all Decepticons connected to the service were considered to be on permanent standby and could theoretically be drafted at any time. Skyfire was sheltered by layers of exceptions and protections, privileges secured for him by simple virtue of being a full citizen of Iacon.

But even that wasn't enough to erase the Decepticon sigil from his chest. Should desperate enough need arise, he would be called.

Starscream wasn't protected the way he was: in fact, as a Seeker, he'd already been called up for duty many times. Skyfire knew this from going over Starscream's public service record. Seekers might be amongst the highest and freest echelons of Decepticon society, but that only meant that they were too valuable to hold back from battle and could be counted on to be found where the fight was hottest. He probably knew a lot about combat despite his scientist designation.

The Autobots thought Skyfire was too good to fight. Too 'like them.'

Well, truth was, he'd never been all that fond of puzzle or strategy games.

"Why not?" Skyfire answered at last, consenting with a verbal equivalent of a shrug. And then, for Starscream's benefit, he went through his entire checklist of sensor adjustments. It wasn't easy to explain to a non-flyer why this was so enjoyable. But with Starscream, all he had to do was show him.

"Mmmm, that's nice," Starscream said, beginning to sound sleepy. This was good: forced recharge was sometimes necessary for passengers, even stasis lock, in order to prevent the development of space sickness. Skyfire was trained in these techniques. But the more Starscream could initialize recharge protocols on his own, the more likely he was to avoid the whole problem altogether.

So it came as a bit of a surprise when Skyfire noticed a reciprocal ping through Starscream's connection. It was an invitation: Starscream was offering him a data feed in return.

"Ah… what's this?"

/_Open it and find out._/

Skyfire considered the offer. Starscream's intentions were more than suspect. It wasn't like he was the sort to open the keys to his mind, and he definitely wasn't experiencing any amazing external sensory input of his own. What could he possibly be offering other than an emotional readout?

The very thought of it made Skyfire's processors quicken. That was just _wrongful_.

"You… don't need to do that."

/_Suit yourself._/ The pinging stopped.

It should have been a relief. Strangely, it was not.


	3. Violence

+ violence +

It was good to have him back.

Skyfire strolled along the causeway in his residential district, for once not bothered that he wasn't allowed to fly home. Never mind that his right wing was badly dented, or that his body paint was hopelessly scuffed and chipped: there was a definite swing in his step. He smiled at all the Autobots who sped by, waving at any neighbors he recognized. Many honked, friendly little beep-beeps.

What a beautiful, wonderful day! Every day should be like this.

Looking at his hands as he walked, Skyfire laughed. Even his fingers were messed up.

_A little pain never hurt anyone._

That was what Starscream always said. Maybe it was actually true.

Soon the two of them would be in space again, picking up their research studies from where they'd been stalled eight stellar cycles ago. All the necessary permissions had been granted; now all they needed was final expedition clearance from the university. Fortunately it had not been a long war.

And until then? Sparring with Starscream nearly every day. Even better, Windchaser was back from one of her own expeditionary missions. In fact…

Skyfire couldn't stop grinning. She was waiting for him right now.

They didn't live together yet, of course. That wouldn't happen until they spark-bonded. But she had the code to his place, and had messaged him earlier letting him know that she would be stopping by. Lately she'd been busy defending her thesis; soon she'd be back in space. But for now she was all his.

Ah, she was so pretty. Skyfire loved her so much.

It was good to have them _both_ back.

Turning the corner down the egress ramp, Skyfire decided it was high time to send a hail.

/_Almost home, sport._/

A moment later, she fired back. /_Fine. See you._/

Skyfire frowned. That wasn't exactly the caliber reply he was anticipating.

Should he ask what was wrong? He didn't like it when she was upset, but maybe she was just being short with him because the thesis work was getting to her. Windchaser was very sweet, but she did tend to be high strung. Strange things bothered her, sometimes. Perhaps this was one of those times. Skyfire elected to maintain frequency silence.

It wasn't far to home.

When he finally arrived at the flat, Skyfire ducked his head as he entered. "Windchaser…?"

She didn't answer. Squeezing through the main hall, he peered into the large main living area. Well, for most other people it would be a grand hall, but it was the one room Skyfire could feel comfortable in. Windchaser was there, sitting in the center chair. Back to him, watching some news feed on the wallscreen. Before he could say anything more, she clicked a button on the control device. The news feed went black.

_Now_ he asked. "Uh, what's wrong?"

Slowly Windchaser turned to face him. Her expression softened for a moment when she looked him in the face. But only for a moment. "Did you have fun at the stadium?"

An answer wrapped in a non-answer. "I did," he said, deliberately taking a few moments to be thoughtful. The light in her eyes was steady; Skyfire met her gaze with a look that was equally contemplative.

How would she like that non-answer answer?

It became a battle of silence, practically a staring contest.

"Oh, sit down," Windchaser said finally, pointing to a spot on the chaise next to her. "Fine, I'm irritated." Her tone was mocking, only slightly bitter. "Obviously you can tell." She clearly didn't like backing down but there was a note of wryness there; maybe things were not all that bad.

"I'm a telepath," Skyfire said, dry. Instead of coming to sit next to her he went around to the floor in front of her, sitting there instead. "One of my many undocumented features." This way he could face Windchaser eye-to-eye.

Windchaser drew a fist to her mouth, stifling a laugh. Skyfire perked up, smiling his slow, warm smile. Perhaps whatever this was would turn out all right.

He really wanted it to.

Alas, Windchaser's efforts to choke out her laughter gained momentum, and slowly she became stern. "He's a bad influence," she accused. "That Starscream." She crossed her arms and drew out the Seeker's name sullenly, piqued.

That Starscream, huh? Skyfire leaned back, resting his weight on his hands as he stretched his arms behind him. "He's just teaching me to fight." Skyfire spoke slowly, the smile still on his face. She could be pretty adorable sometimes, even without intending it. Especially without intending it, apparently. "It's nothing new."

"Yeah, I know. You've been doing it for ages. It's so amazing and fun and soon you'll be enlisting in our stupid wars and getting your wings shot off." Windchaser waved one hand in directionless disdain. " It's barbaric and stupid and _that Starscream_ is a terrible influence." Her optics flashed. "Telepath that."

Ouch. His own smile receded at Skyfire contemplated that torrent of words. "Real fighting isn't fun," he said slowly. A bit annoyed. He wanted that to come out neutral but it didn't.

"How would you know?" Her response was immediate, like someone taking advantage of an opening. She wasn't up for being appeased, it seemed. Windchaser shook her head and leaned forward, arms still crossed. "_Citizens of Iacon_ don't fight unless they want to." She looked strangely young in her rage. "There is no such thing as a pretend fight."

Perhaps she looked young because her words were so cruel. Skyfire felt himself go cold. What had Starscream said to him, long ago? "Isn't that what this is?" Autobots _liked_ to pretend. "A fake, meaningless fight?" He sat up a bit straighter. "You're not going to get me to change what I do and you're not going to break up with me over something so ridiculous. So what is the point?"

Skyfire knew those were the exact wrong things to say as soon as the words left his mouth. She bristled, standing up and looking down on him, trembling. "You... you... You!"

Slag. With one easy step he'd given up the moral high ground. Normally he'd feel instantly regretful but his injured fingers were tingling and he was feeling every ache in his body. "There is no point," he said. "You know it and I know it." He looked up at her, and wasn't trembling at all. "You didn't have a problem with this before so you have no right to spontaneously generate problems with it now."

"No right…" It looked like she was going to splutter out a response again but somehow she contained herself. "You were using _weapons_." She leaned down to speak directly into his audials. "I suppose there is no point to me worrying about my _very stupid boyfriend_ getting hurt now, is there?"

Oh, that. How did she find out about that? Skyfire looked to the side, both diffidently and defensively. "We were using blanks. It was pre-approved by the University council."

It had taken some doing to get that approval, too. A lot of doing. A stupid lot of doing. Skyfire tightened his hands into fists, supporting his weight now on his knuckles. Ashamed and angry, he couldn't look at Windchaser even after he finished speaking.

Windchaser straightened, taking a step back. It appeared she was waiting for elaboration.

He had to be logical. Skyfire allowed Windchaser to stew while he tried to examine the problem from every angle. Did she have any right to be upset over this? It was true he hadn't told her about the weapons ahead of time, but she'd been off world the last couple solar cycles… communication during that time was brief and precious, and this had _never_ seemed important to him. And besides, didn't she trust him? Didn't she know he wasn't going to do anything dangerous? She was supposed to be the person who knew him better than he knew himself.

Okay, so he shouldn't have declared that she wasn't going to break up with him. That was pretty arrogant and presumptuous of him. But this WAS a meaningless fight. What he was doing was no different than engaging in high-impact sport, and she'd _never_ had a problem with that. So that couldn't be the real problem here. That only left… "You don't like Starscream."

"_No kidding_." The tapping stopped. "Welcome to twenty breems ago."

Twenty… Literal-minded Skyfire looked up at Windchaser, awash in confusion as he clocked out this entire conversation, double-checking to make sure he had the timing correct. He was a few astroseconds in when he realized that she had been using hyperbole. Slag it, she always did that, didn't she? It was his weak point and he fell for it every time. Usually this was a good way to calm him down, but not this time. Was she just playing with him? Obviously the concerns for his wellbeing were not the motivating force behind this conversation… did that mean she didn't care about his safety? Was that just a diversion, too? "Don't do that," he said, voice low.

Now he was shaking.

"I'll do whatever I fragging please. " A pause. "It's not like you're going to break up with me over something _so ridiculous_." She was smiling now, slightly.

"You hating my colleague and friend is hardly ridiculous," Skyfire said, even quieter than before.

"Why not? He's irresponsible and takes you to the most disgusting places." She flipped her fingers in an "away, away!" gesture. "I bet that grease stain still hits on you, too."

Was that what this was about? "He doesn't, actually," Skyfire said, reaching absolute zero in terms of tone and quietude. "He stopped that a long time ago."

The tingling in his fingers was becoming worse.

"He didn't stop dragging you along for his whoring, though." It probably wasn't possible for her to sound any more disapproving, either. "How can he have your safety in mind when he puts you through _that_?"

She was still pretending this was about his safety? "Irrelevant. He's a professional soldier."

"What? And that's what soldiers _do_? Fight all day and interface all night?" She took a small step forward. "But he's supposed to be a scientist… right? So why is it so slagging important for him to act like an open-port Decepticon lowlife?"

Skyfire didn't consciously decide to stand: he just suddenly did, and was. Windchaser was not short, for an Autobot. But she still only came up to his chest. He looked down. The shaking was a lot worse. "What did you say?"

Windchaser's eyes widened. "I didn't mean--" She didn't step back, but she did put her hands up as if to say "hold it." "Not because he's a Decepticon—he's just a lowlife… he just happens to be--" Whatever she saw in Skyfire's face caused her to shake her head rapidly from side to side. "No. _No_."

"Decepticon lowlife?" Skyfire said, as if she hadn't said a word.

"It doesn't matter what he is when he _hurts_ you." Windchaser waved her arms out wide. "He could be an Autobot head of state for all I care. Look at you." She did, looking up and down over all of his scratches and dents, finding a spot where the casing metal was razored open. She pointed at it, as if that proved everything. "_Look at you_."

Skyfire didn't. There was no point in looking at his own body; he could feel all the small aches and pangs quite well. "Is that why you don't trust me anymore?" He grabbed her arms near the shoulders, fingers circling around the silvery metal. "Because my friend… a tenured professor and decorated soldier… is a _lowlife_?"

"You're wrong," she said, automatically and instantly struggling to squirm from his grasp. "I don't trust _him_."

"Because he's a Decepticon?" Skyfire tightened his grip; his thumb made a small dent.

"Because he's a _jerk_." Instead of just trying to shake her arms free, Windchaser started thrashing her entire body, pivoting her shoulders back and forth. "Let go of me!"

Let go? Skyfire wasn't paying any attention to that. "Why don't you trust me?" He felt so desperate; why wasn't she answering? "Because I'm…"

"_No_. Skyfire, it _hurts_. Let go already…"

Almost involuntarily, he tightened his grip even more. He didn't want to let her go. It felt like he was losing her and he didn't even know why. He deserved an answer! He deserved an explanation! He deserved…

Windchaser stopped struggling, and looked up at his with her mouth open. Strange noises coming from her vocalizer… "Please…" … a sob.

_What the slag am I doing?_

Skyfire released Windchaser. The shaking in his body stopped. He felt like ice.

"I'm so sorry." His voice was barely more than a whisper. Skyfire backed away. "I'm…"

Windchaser put her hands gingerly over the spots he'd squeezed, arms crossed over her spark. "No. I am." She sounded so sad.

"I didn't mean--"

"Me neither."

Both of them were looking down at the floor. They stood like that for a while.

"I've got to go," Windchaser broke the silence, after maybe a breem had passed. "I—I'm really sorry Sky. This was my fault. But…"

Skyfire covered his face with his hands, nodded.

_A little pain never hurt anyone._

Maybe it was a just a lie.

. + .

"Really, _Professor_. You look like total slag."

It was several days later, but Skyfire had not left his flat since The Incident. Not to get the repairs he needed. Not for any reason. He was even running low on energon; a commodity Starscream was apparently more than happy to provide in the form of high-grade. Skyfire stared blankly at his partner from just inside the front hallway of said flat, looking out: Starscream had an armful of provisions and a predatory smirk on his face.

"Why…"

"Oh, shut up." Starscream pushed past Skyfire casually, turning sideways and pressing Skyfire to turn as well, making way. "You're being maudlin."

"I wanted to be alone. I was very specific…" Skyfire trailed behind Starscream, and his voice trailed off as well.

"So you can mourn over your moronic girlfriend as if she were dead?"

"Yes…"

Finding the main room without difficulty, Starscream dropped down into the chaise unceremoniously, and stacked his cache of high grade on the floor next to him. "She hasn't even broken things off, you idiot. I don't know what you were fighting about but it can't have been that important if your precious relationship is still intact."

"She was sitting there when it happened." Skyfire felt himself becoming choked up. It was hard to even come back into that room… he'd been spending his days in one of the larger recharge rooms, the only one he could mostly fit into without problems. He came to a stop, helplessly watching Starscream finish his preparations of pouring two cubes of high grade.

Starscream turned, draping his arms over the back of the chaise. "I hope you'll mourn me half that well the next time we get in a minor tiff," he said, squinting critically. "Here, drink." He held out both cubes.

"It wasn't minor." Obediently and mindlessly, Skyfire took both cubes, dispensing with them in two quick gulps. "I think I ruined everything forever…" Just as mindlessly, he handed the cubes back to Starscream.

"And your girlfriend gives up her image-perfect boytoy… oh, excuse me, _boyfriend_… and her fairy tale story of Decepticon redemption and love conquering all?" Starscream snorted, already refilling the cubes. "Unlikely."

"She's not like that." Skyfire went droopy, limbs sagging as he leaned forward a little. He still couldn't bring himself to come all the way into the room.

"You forget, my dear professor, that I have met the female Autobot in question." Taking a quick sip from each newly re-filled cube, Starscream passed them back to Skyfire. "She's _exactly_ like that."

Morose, Skyfire kicked back the next two cubes. He opened his mouth as if to say something, and he could feel more defensive words coming to his lips, but just as quickly he clamed up. After a moment he just shook his head sadly and returned the cubes to Starscream.

Who, of course, was now smirking up at him, as if admiring Skyfire's anti-swagger.

"Don't think I'm agreeing with you," Skyfire muttered finally. He wasn't. He most definitely wasn't.

"Don't think I'd give you that much credit for good sense when you're looking and acting like a soggy cosmic sponge." Starscream continued to look up at him with that same smug, self-satisfied smile, holding the empty cubes from limply draped arms. "All I can say is that she must be a most excellent lay."

Where did Starscream get these terrible, antenna-raising ideas? Skyfire's cheekplates heated up as he processed the crude accusation, trying to calibrate exactly how uncalled for Starscream's words were.

He considered the source. Perhaps he should thank Starscream for restricting himself to one thing.

Wilting just a little bit more, Skyfire held out his hands in a plaintive gesture. "Just give me more energon."

"Ahh. A _very_ good lay." Starscream turned around to decant some more of the glowing pink liquid, laughing softly.

The danger in giving Starscream free passes was that he shamelessly exploited them.

Skyfire nodded to himself. He was always good at coming up with these little nuggets of wisdom. "I wouldn't know," he said, deciding to stick up for Windchaser's honor after all. "We decided to wait until sparkbonding." He thought about that for a minute. "If we ever _do_ sparkbond…"

"Maudlin," Starscream warned, and before Skyfire knew it there were two more full cubes held out before him.

Skyfire dispatched with them just as handily as he had the first two sets.

"I don't get the Autobot preoccupation with sparkbonding anyway." This complaint was followed by Starscream snatching back the empty cubes once again. "Does that stupid mysticism actually make for better interfacing? I highly doubt it."

"It would have been so wonderful, too," Skyfire continued, ignoring Starscream in favor of his deeper sorrow.

Starscream poured more high grade, but this time when he offered Skyfire some he only held out one cube, keeping one for himself. "You should sit down."

Taking his own advice, Starscream turned away from Skyfire to sit normally, back to his friend.

Not having any outstretched hand to take his empty cube, Skyfire finally wandered into the room, moving slowly, going to sit in That Spot Where He Sat Before. He sighed a little as he dropped to the floor, as if in defeat.

"More." Skyfire held forth the cube, using both hands.

Starscream sipped at his own drink and just looked at Skyfire for a while.

Frowning at this lack of response, Skyfire shrugged, and wafted his hand towards energon dispenser. Before he could get his hand over to the appropriate spot, however, Starscream leaned down swiftly and moved the main stash out of Skyfire's reach. "I'll get that," Starscream said, voice rough for some reason. "Don't strain yourself."

"See?" Skyfire pointed, finger moving erratically but with the overall vector accurately targeting Starscream. "You're not _really_ a jerk." He smiled suddenly.

Starscream had put down his drink and was pouring Skyfire yet another, but he looked up when Skyfire finished speaking. "Is that what you fought about?" Even if he were not (slightly) inebriated, Skyfire would have found Starscream's face unreadable at the moment. "Me?"

"No, I think we mostly fought about whores," Skyfire said, remembering back to the fight. His memory was oddly foggy, but the word "whore" came up a lot more than it usually did in everyday conversation. So that was at least a part of it.

"Oh yes." Starscream dropped the refilled cube back into Skyfire's hands. "Your many whores." More of that same soft laughter from before. Starscream leaned forward as he picked his drink back up and started sipping at it again.

"No, it was about _your_ many whores." It wouldn't do for Starscream to think he had whores. That just wasn't true.

Skyfire swallowed the last of this latest drink and handed the empty cube back to Starscream.

"I see." Starscream nodded solemnly. "You're right, that's not about me at all."

This time Starscream didn't hesitate to refill Skyfire's cube. Skyfire watched the process with much interest. A thought had just occurred to him. "I think I'm becoming overcharged."

Pausing in his task, Starscream looked up. "Becoming?" He snickered.

"Yes." Skyfire sighed. Windchaser would probably not approve. "More."

"You know, it doesn't surprise me that your girlfriend is hung up on whores," Starscream said as he gave Skyfire back his freshly filled cube. "She's probably just sexually frustrated."

Sexually…? Skyfire looked down at his drink, flushing slowly as he took in Starscream's diagnostic accusation. He started thinking about Windchaser's beautiful body, and how he liked to kiss her and stroke her and…

… and then he remembered how he did _that thing_ and now he would have no right to touch her ever again.

And yet oh how he wanted to. "I don't think it's her," Skyfire said sadly, finally finding the courage to belt down his latest allotment of high grade. "She's not the one."

A very long silence followed this confession. Skyfire could not look up, so he had no idea what Starscream was thinking, but as the moments stretched he felt increasingly awkward and exposed. "I..."

"Would you like another drink?" Starscream cut him off, quietly but effectively.

Skyfire looked up, then. "Yeah."

Leaning forward, Starscream tried to grab the cube from Skyfire. His hand brushed Skyfire's as he did so, and involuntarily Skyfire jerked back.

Starscream halted in his motions for a moment, and then held out his hand, carefully not too close to Skyfire's body this time. "Give it here." His tone had become mocking, but without humor or laughter. "Don't worry, I don't find desperation attractive. You're safe."

That did it. Whatever scaffolding had been holding Skyfire's already fragile emotions together now collapsed. He wasn't… he didn't… Skyfire shook his head in negation. Starscream had the wrong idea, but Skyfire's thoughts were too scattered. He couldn't think of anything to say.

"It's too bad neither you nor your girlfriend have the circuit breakers to just get it over with and fuck already." Starscream sat back, moving away. "This little drama is becoming a bit stale."

Trying to get up, Skyfire was felled by a nasty rush of vertigo. Perhaps he was more overcharged than he thought. "That's why I was _specific_…" He moaned at the end as if to underline his overall ill feelings.

"If you didn't want me to come you shouldn't have told me not to."

Probably that would make perfect sense were he sober. But as it was, Skyfire frowned and gingerly lowered himself back to the ground, trying not to make any sudden movements while attempting to unscramble the puzzle that was Starscream doublethink. Did that rule apply to everything or just relationship-related concerns? "So… if I'd asked you to come, you wouldn't?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" The mocking tone was now joined with some rather obvious irritation. "And what do _I_ have to do with your dysfunctional love life anyway?" Starscream laughed, bitterly. "I'm sorry. I mean, what do _my whores_ have to do with your dysfunctional love life, anyway?"

Very tough to distill that down into one point. "You're going to kill me with your whores," Skyfire was up to the challenge.

For a moment Starscream seemed confused. Even flabbergasted. But soon the Seeker shook himself, and that mocking, challenging glare resumed. "Since when did your girlfriend ever get the idea that I planned to share?"

Huh? What? That was beyond Skyfire's ability to parse. It shouldn't have been, but the accelerated excitability of his cerebral wiring and the wash of excess energy flipping current in many critical sectors dialed his deductive reasoning circuitry to near flatline. He was still trying to salvage something from the emotional tectonic shifts within his spark as well.

Starscream wasn't acting like someone who had come over to cheer him up. Did that mean that Starscream had instead come to torment him? To get him drunk and then treat him like someone to laugh at and humiliate? "Stop questioning me," he said, feeling stubborn and, strangely, regretful. "I wanted to be alone."

"You deserve to be," Starscream said, voice dripping with venom and disdain. "If all you can do is pity yourself and be unnecessarily uptight, like your idiot girlfriend, you completely deserve to be."

Oh.

"I thought you were my friend," Skyfire said, turning away, towards the wall. He was still seated and he lowered his head and hugged his legs.

There was another one of those long silences, and again Skyfire had no idea what Starscream was thinking. Probably laughing at him on the inside.

It hurt. Just thinking about it hurt.

A lot.

"Professor…" Open, and uncertain. The usual irony was not there.

Skyfire hugged his knees tighter. It was probably just a trick. "Leave me alone." When the silence stretched again with no hint of noises suggesting departure, Skyfire decided to up the ante. "This is all your fault."

"My fault." Starscream's voice became ominously thoughtful. "Interesting."

"Just go," Skyfire said.

Now, finally, there was the sound of movement. Shifting and a small thump. Before he could find much relief in this revelation, however, Skyfire noticed something odd to the sound. He felt a prickly sensation between his wings, a sensation he'd never felt before.

He'd hardly had any time at all to register the suspicion that something wasn't right when a searing pain lanced through his body, causing him to fall over twitching onto his side.

Skyfire tried to move, couldn't. That meant just one thing.

Null ray.

Clumping footsteps echoed as Starscream circled around Skyfire, and soon his feet and legs came into view. Starscream dropped to one knee, and casually pushed the shuttle all the way onto his back. That took strain off of his wing, which had bent alarmingly without his ability to either right himself or, at the very least, roll. It also meant that Skyfire could look directly into Starscream's optics.

Because of the pain and the effects of the null ray, a good deal of Skyfire's muzzy sense of overcharge simply vanished. He was almost entirely sober as he contemplated Starscream's face, and his mistake.

With a dangerous tenderness, Starscream had placed one hand over Skyfire's forehead, a gesture most often used to steady and reassure. In this case it served more like a restraint, preventing Skyfire from turning his head even slightly. "My fault," Starscream repeated. "_My_ fault." The Seeker was building up to a crescendo. "You say this is _my fault_?"

"I'm sorry," Skyfire whispered.

"But you meant it."

Up close, watching Starscream's face twist into rage, Skyfire lost all sense of feeling sorry for himself. Instead he felt… sorrow. Deep, overwhelming sorrow. "I'm sorry," he whispered again. His quietness was only partially related to technical difficulties with his vocalizer.

The repeated apology did nothing to mollify Starscream. Instead he became angrier. Releasing Skyfire's face, he clocked him instead, a forceful cut to the right side of Skyfire's jaw. "_You meant it_."

Slag. That hurt. He knew it wasn't going to help, but… "I'm sorry."

"Shut up!" Another painful punch to the face. "Explain how this is _my fault_!"

It wasn't.

Skyfire offlined his optics, not surprised when another blow struck his face. And another. "I… grabbed her," he said after yet another punch. "I hurt her." There was a pause in the violence; Starscream was listening. "I held her, Starscream. I…. I would not let go." Somehow, his own pain made it easier to admit. "I'm so sorry," he said, and this time his voice broken with a stifled sob.

For the third time that evening, a silence stretched between he and Starscream which Skyfire could not interpret. This time, however, he was far too caught up in the exquisite torture and strange relief of having confessed his shame, laid bare the darkness in his soul.

It was something he didn't want to admit. He didn't want Starscream to see this shameful part of himself.

But having it out in the open helped. Somehow, it did.

Again Starscream was the one to finally break the silence. "_Idiot_." Skyfire felt without seeing Starscream as he was straddled.

That was when the beatings, and rant, began in earnest.

"You and your girlfriend have the _worst relationship ever_." No longer focusing his attacks on Skyfire's face, Starscream began hammering at his chestplate instead, deepening the pre-existing dents and creating new ones. "Don't blame that on me!" Each blow landed with a thud and a crunch, sending ringing vibrations throughout his frame. "So you slagging touched her!" The pain was becoming quite intense. "So what."

Maybe a valid point? But then again, maybe not. If putting things in perspective meant deciding that what he'd done wasn't so bad simply because he hadn't beaten her to scrap, it wasn't a lesson Skyfire was eager to learn. It was hard to think though. The problem was that Starscream scrambled his thinking in so many ways, and not just now.

And this was how Starscream was involved.

That still didn't make it Starscream's fault, though.

"Sorry." Skyfire was helpless to say more.

"Shut up." It was obvious Starscream had no intention to stop any time soon. He was far too furious. "You think my influence is contagious? You think you're becoming more like a Decepticon simply through secondhand observation and a very minor amount of training?" Some of the dents had become so deep they were like slow knives piercing Skyfire's body. "You _wish_. It's not my fault you can't be something you're not!"

Core system warnings began to flicker into Skyfire's status monitor as circuits were crushed and coolant lines broken. "I know," Skyfire rasped. "I'm sorry."

Starscream clapped his hand together, lacing his fingers and raising his arms high above his head before smashing his clasped hands right over Skyfire's core. "_Shut up_."

Skyfire really was sorry. He'd never meant to do this to Starscream. The fault had been his own all along.

Protective system shutdown was imminent. There wasn't much time left. Skyfire wished he could move. Instead, he forced his optics back online, despite the needling pain caused by hairline fractures in the glass. "No. I am sorry. But." It was hard to smile through this level of pain, but he did it anyway. "Thank you."

_You knew I didn't really want to be alone_.

Audial sensors began to shut down, and his vision dimmed almost as soon as he regained it. Not enough information to guess what Starscream was thinking. All he had was a brief glimpse of Starscream's face, contorted and strained. And with that, a static-laden sound.

_A little pain never hurt anyone_.

It might depend.


	4. Bias

+ bias +

"You have visitors, sir."

Skyfire tensed, turning his head away from the door. He'd only just been rebooted a cycle or so ago, and still wasn't feeling quite oriented. "Can you ask them to come back later?"

The medic who'd been caring for him placed a hand on his shoulder. "Not these visitors, sir." He sounded regretful.

Visitors who couldn't be turned away. Wasn't hard to guess what sorts of persons those were. Nodding without turning his head, Skyfire instead focused his attention on the view.

He'd never been to a repair hostel before, so had been surprised earlier to find himself in a room so spacious that for once he didn't feel the slightest bit crowded. The windows actually felt like they were some distance away, like he'd have to walk to them if he wanted to touch them. That it would take more than a few short steps to do so.

Squeezing Skyfire's shoulder in mute sympathy, the medic stepped away from the berth. His steps were soft—nothing like Starscream's decisively loud ones—and those were more than a few short steps as well. Skyfire counted each one as he looked out upon the shimmering sky of Cybertron. Quiet words were exchanged on the opposite side of the room, but Skyfire ignored them.

Everything here was clean, bright, and sterile. A perfect place to heal.

"You are the Decepticon designated Skyfire?" A new speaker, one unfamiliar to him. The way the question was asked made it clear that for the speaker, the question had already been answered. It was a formality, nothing more.

It was tempting to say no, just for the slag of it.

Instead, Skyfire slowly turned his head. "You'll forgive me for not getting up."

As advertised, there were visitors, plural. Two. Both had an official look about them. One was frowning, having apparently caught the fact that Skyfire's greeting came in the flavor of courtesy that more discerning mechanisms might categorize as "rude." The other was smiling.

Not surprisingly, it was the frowning one who spoke. "We're peacekeeping officers from Internal Affairs. My name is Prowl, and my partner here is Jazz." The one named Prowl paused, nodding to the other one. "We are here to ask you some questions."

Naturally. "I can't possibly imagine what for." Although the words were dry, even caustic, Skyfire attempted to moderate his own innate harshness of response with a weary smile.

He wasn't up for this. Couldn't they have waited just a few more cycles before initiating grilling protocols?

The one named Prowl favored him with a brittle smile. The other one, Jazz, smiled even more broadly, giving Skyfire a discrete thumbs-up sign, one shielded from his partner. An interesting interpersonal dynamic, but Skyfire was not fooled: he and Windchaser had watched too many law enforcement procedurals together in the past not to know the general gist of how police work was accomplished.

Skyfire ignored the signal which invited false camaraderie, and turned his attention to the detective who was actually bothering to speak to him. "I'm sorry," he added. Unimpeachably smooth. "Please continue."

Prowl nodded briskly, apparently taking Skyfire's relenting as his due. "We do apologize." He didn't appear to be sorry at all. "I am sure, however, that you can see the value of swiftly bringing your assailant to justice."

Oh, Starscream. Skyfire looked up at the ceiling then. He really wasn't up for this, not at all. He'd almost prefer to be beaten up all over again than have to endure this. "I'm sure."

Jazz had taken this time to procure some small chairs for he and his partner to sit in. Stools, actually, ones which were in the room already. He laid them out meticulously, setting up the one for his partner nearest the head of the berth, while he himself sat further down, and at a slight remove. Prowl barely even acknowledged the gesture as he took to his own seat. "So," he said, settling in primly. "Tell us what happened."

The ceiling was far away, too, Skyfire realized suddenly. He wanted to be beyond that barrier, up and out and away from here. "I... I'm not really sure," he began. Time to extemporaneously invent a story. "I was pretty overcharged." He was at an extreme disadvantage, not knowing what the officers knew already. "I... I don't even remember where I was." Meaning, he didn't even know if Starscream had left him in the flat or had perhaps, in an unexpected flash of kindness or foresight, dragged him out to the streets in order to be more easily found. "What happened?"

Hope was faint that the officers would give him any relief, or assistance. But he could try.

"Just start from what you do remember." Prowl was shaking his head a bit ruefully, and Skyfire knew that his attempt was not only failed, but obvious.

Primus. What did they _know_? Constructing believable falsehoods was not one of Skyfire's special features, undocumented or otherwise. "Mmm. Well. I had a fight with my girlfriend a few days ago." Best to start with a foundation of truth; this was probably what Starscream would do. "I was feeling very bad, and hadn't left my place for days." Still true, and also information he expected them to know: they must have already questioned Windchaser, at least. "But I was running out of energon, and since I felt so miserable, I, uh, went to an energon bar." Technically, the bar came to him. "I, I. I overdid it." Best to gloss over that part. They might ask him which bar, and Skyfire's knowledge of where such establishments could be found in Iacon paled in comparison to his knowledge of the ones in Kaon. "And then at some point I decided to leave, and go home, and after that, I don't really remember anything else." Skyfire had kept his gaze on the ceiling this entire time. "I'm sorry."

"So you allege that it was someone who attacked you openly on the streets of Iacon?"

Frank disbelief. Again the response was from Prowl, although that was no surprise. Which meant that this was now a time of decision.

What mattered most, here? What did Skyfire want to accomplish?

Gathering courage, Skyfire turned towards his questioner, nodding firmly, looking the detective in the eye. "Yeah, that might be what happened. But I really don't know."

There was no way he could protect Starscream if he wasted sentiment worrying what others thought of him.

"Do you often suffer such troubling lapses in memory?"

He didn't care if they could tell that he was lying. He just didn't care.

"Not often, no." Skyfire kept still, calm. He had often been accused of being obtuse, by anyone who had known him for any period of time, but especially by Starscream. There was a reason he came off that way, however.

He was stubborn, and didn't like being led.

The one named Jazz gave Skyfire a crooked smile, and for the first time spoke. "Relax, man. If you can't remember, you can't remember. It's chill."

And the other one, Prowl, had turned to give his partner a level look. "Very well," he said, not turning back to Skyfire right away. "Then perhaps we should go over a few things."

Jazz kept looking at Skyfire, with a jocular "let's be friends" smile. "You're not in trouble here. Don't worry. Everything will be dandy, you just sit back and listen and we'll tell you some things we've found, and maybe you can help us out a bit."

Good. Skyfire felt like he'd won a round. But he still had to be on his guard.

A vivid memory of Starscream reaching out and touching him, with him pulling away, came to him. Acute regret accompanied the memory, as well as a stark sense of guilt.

This was not how things should have gone.

"You were found in your apartment after an anonymous tip was forwarded to central command." Prowl laid out the facts in a precise manner. "A good amount of high grade energon was found on the premises, and nothing appeared to be stolen or damaged." If it bothered the detective to be disclosing these things, it did not show. "Two witnesses in your complex described observing a Seeker-type mechanism both arriving and leaving earlier that same evening."

Witnesses? This was far worse than Skyfire thought. How could it be anything other than obvious that Starscream was the one who did this to him? Starscream was the only "Seeker-type mechanism" he knew. "That's... huh," he said, a hollow sensation boring into his chest. "I honestly don't remember any of that."

"Huh, right?" Jazz, again, cheerful, raising both hands and shrugging sheepishly. "Could it have just been a domestic squabble that got a lil' out of hand?" Yes, they obviously knew all about Starscream. "Friends fight, there ain't no shame in admitting it. Sound like anyone you know?"

"I do have a friend who's a Seeker," Skyfire admitted, trying hard not to sound begrudging. How would Starscream spin this? "It may be that he came by while I was out."

Jazz nodded, laughing quietly while shaking his head, and Skyfire realized that Jazz's friendliness was probably sincere. Appreciation of a worthy adversary.

In a perverse way, that pleased him.

Prowl displayed no such appreciation. The other mechanism continued to glare coldly, and upon hearing Skyfire's convenient speculation, his eyes widened in obvious disbelief. "Is your friend in the habit of having drinking binges alone in your apartment? And then leaving without waiting for your return?"

The thought of Starscream frequently breaking in and having personal orgies was sadly all too realistic. Sad, although in this instance useful, because it filled Skyfire with conviction. "Is there something wrong with that?"

At that, Jazz's laughter flipped from covert to open, loud guffaws that appeared to annoy his partner.

After giving Jazz a disgusted frown, Prowl turned back to Skyfire. "The Decepticon designated Starscream was positively identified as the Seeker in question by our witnesses."

Considering how much the detectives knew, it was a bit startling that they needed his, Skyfire's, cooperation at all. But telling, too. As a scientist, Skyfire was a bit of a detective in his own right. Stacking up all of the things that they'd presented to him so far, including the evidence via their line of questioning that his cooperation was, in fact, required, brought him to the rather strong hypothesis that their own evidence, extensive as it seemed, was all circumstantial.

So as long as Skyfire didn't crack, they shouldn't have much of a case.

Skyfire was not insensible to the irony of being the last line of defense shielding the person who did this to him.

"I'm sorry I missed him," Skyfire said. "Perhaps he could have stopped whoever did this to me." He couldn't quite keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

"Whoever--" Prowl stood up. "Don't mock us. We're trying to _help_."

Looking up at Prowl, Jazz put a settling hand on the other officer's forearm. The two exchanged a look, and after a moment Prowl sat down again. It was Jazz who spoke this time. "We did speak to your Starscream, you know." He made it sound as if he was making a confession of his own, as if trying to break the news gently. "He didn't deny being the one to do this to you." His smile was kind, almost pitying. "It's okay, you don't need to lie to protect him."

For a moment, Skyfire experienced a most curious rush of despair, a sadness he couldn't explain. Was this it then? Was he wrong about the purpose of this visit? Maybe they didn't need his testimony at all, and were simply testing him to see how likely he was to press charges. Or whether they could convince him to press charges.

After all, if he didn't press charges, a lot of this would be moot. What kind of punishment could they possibly mete?

Except...

Starscream didn't deny it. That's what they said. But if he didn't deny it, did it follow that he admitted it?

_What does that have to do with anything?_

Another flash of memory, even stronger than before. For Starscream, at least, a double negative didn't necessarily equal a positive.

"I... I'm not lying," Skyfire said slowly. "I really don't remember."

"Is that so?" Jazz said this very quietly, intently. "You're sure you don't remember?"

Surprisingly, this time it was Prowl who held his partner back, shaking his head "no" with crossed arms, giving Jazz a serious frown. "I've never encountered it before personally, but I have heard that it is not uncommon for Decepticons to generate memory blocks surrounding certain traumatic events." His gaze was steady, sweeping slowly from Jazz to Skyfire. "Perhaps this is what happened to you." Prowl's stare was piercing, unsettling.

A memory block? If only. Nevertheless it sounded like a good excuse. "Yeah, that's probably it."

"It must be frustrating to be unable to access areas of your own memory banks." The words were sympathetic, but the _stare_. Skyfire was concerned about Prowl's stare. "Especially knowing that the person who did this to you is out there, living with no consequences, free to strike some other unfortunate victim such as yourself."

"I suppose... No, yes, you're right."

Too late, Skyfire realized it was a trap when Prowl allowed himself the luxury of a small smile. "There are ways to get around memory blocks."

Back to looking at the ceiling. This was not good. But it also made him so mad.

After all, why were they doing this to him? Didn't he, as a victim, have any rights? Even accepting that they were acting on good faith, shouldn't it be obvious by now that he had no intention of cooperating? Why did they care so much to get him to confess if he wasn't likely to press charges? What kind of justice were they aiming for?

The answer came to him far later than it should. Starscream was not a citizen of Iacon.

Of course.

That meant... no matter what Skyfire said, if enough proof were in hand, Starscream could be banished from this city-state. And would almost certainly be expelled from his position in the university as well.

The thought made Skyfire's processors seize. "I'd rather not." For the first time since his 'visitors' arrived, he made a point of looking down at his body, with the still-open chest component revealing the extent of damages he'd received. "I'm sure blocks exist for a reason." He felt faint. "I... I don't want to remember."

Prowl's continuing stare, and smile, were relentless. "Are you saying you don't care if the perpetrator claims another victim?"

It would be a good point, if this had truly been a random attack on the street. But it wasn't possible to say that Skyfire didn't think this particular perpetrator was in danger of attacking anyone else beside himself. Starscream was violent, but not purposelessly so. This was a defense he desperately wanted to raise.

Under no circumstances would he allow himself to raise it.

"I'm saying I don't want to remember." Skyfire wanted to go back into recharge. He was exhausted.

"A pity," Prowl murmured.

A challenging silence followed. The hostel was a rather high-end medical facility; no sounds of monitoring devices, no chatter of medics. Only the comfortable hum of the distant city transmitting faintly through pristine glass.

In many respects, the officer's tactics were working. Skyfire felt duly exposed, nervous, and ashamed. He continued to look down at his open chest, currently on coolant bypass. It felt like even his own body was reproaching his stubbornness.

It was Prowl who finally broke the silence, sitting back. "Jazz?" Odd; Skyfire could have sworn he heard a note of genuine regret threading the stern officer's voice.

Naturally, the question drew Skyfire's attention to the other officer. Jazz was staring down at a datapad, which he'd apparently fetched from subspace while Prowl was speaking. "Gimme a sec. Almost." There were a few more moments of silence as Jazz waited for some unspecified event to occur, and then he pressed his finger a few times to the touch screen. When he finally looked up, Skyfire saw that he was no longer smiling. "Done." He then handed the datapad to Prowl, who glanced over the contents.

It didn't take long before Prowl nodded, apparently satisfied with whatever he'd read.

While Prowl was reading, Jazz stood and walked around the foot of the berth, going over to where the windows were. The officer then clasped his hands behind his back, turning to look out over the humming city. Before Skyfire could become too apprehensive (or annoyed) by this suspenseful little drama, Prowl wordlessly handed the datapad over to Skyfire.

It was a warrant. Specifically, a search warrant. The document was not very long, but it didn't need to be.

"Why ask?" Skyfire asked hollowly, as he read over the legal document. Everything appeared to be in order.

By submitting a simple form, these officers had obtained permission to search his memory banks.

"It's better if you cooperate." Prowl, explaining. Gentle and implacable, all at once. "It's still better."

His _memory banks_. Skyfire let the datapad drop from his fingers.

How was this remotely fair?

"I don't want to remember." His words were barely more than static, offered up more as a mantra of protection than in any kind of organized protest. "I don't."

Would they see his fight with Windchaser? How he grasped at her, big and awkward and so very wrong?

What would they think of Starscream's meltdown? Would they see how it was in some ways justified, by that self-same awkwardness and wrongness of his?

Would they see when Starscream reached out to him, and without meaning to, he pulled away?

This was all private. These moments were _his_.

Now Jazz turned to him, and then walked back over to the berth, standing on the opposite side from where Prowl was. The expression on his face as he looked down on Skyfire was strange. "It's for the best," he said, vainly trying to capture Skyfire's attention directly. "We're sorry, man. But even if he's a friend, it's still wrong, you know?"

"So is this." They had a warrant. He had no choice but to cooperate. Either he voluntarily submitted, or they strapped him down and took the memories forcefully: either way, his memories would no longer belong only to him. The thought filled him with frustration. And maybe something else.

"You could just tell us what happened." Prowl. "We don't need to go this far if you just tell us."

In comparison, a generous offer. It was so tempting: if they were going to learn the truth anyway, wouldn't it be better to keep that which was private to himself? Starscream would be banished either way. And yet, precisely because Starscream would be banished, Skyfire felt himself reluctant to simply give in. Would he ever be able to face Starscream again if he gave ground, even just a little? Even if the end result were pre-determined, did that mean he should just give up?

This question caused Skyfire to become extremely still.

Skyfire finally met Jazz's gaze head-on. "I have nothing to say. I won't cooperate."

Jazz's strange look intensified. "The path of most resistance, huh?" He wasn't smiling or frowning. "Don't you see why this is necessary, though? We can't be allowin' crime against the citizenry, no matter how personally forgiving they might be." Perhaps it was sympathy. "If you can't say, won't you at least let us look? If you do have a block... well, let's just say it can be reconstructed, if you want."

Why were they trying so hard to get him to agree? Was it a misguided attempt to make this easier? "I'd rather not." Not even Starscream could be this stubborn. "You just do what you have to do. You don't need me to play along."

"It's preferable if you allow it," Prowl cut in smoothly, and Skyfire took a moment to turn his head, glancing at Jazz's still seated partner. "As you can see, the warrant is correct. But." Even his pauses were serious and judgmental. "It would not be civilized to force a mechanism in your position."

And badgering him was? Such self-righteousness was aggravating. Weariness and disgust made Skyfire want to give in... _long_ to give in. But he had reason for his stubbornness, in that it gave him the time to think things through at his own pace, without allowing himself to feel pressured. Something was off about this whole exchange. Something just didn't make sense, and Skyfire couldn't agree to passively accept what was being asked of him until he identified what that something was.

What would Starscream think, were he in this position?

Wait. Why _wasn't_ he in this position, anyway? If it were so easy to get a warrant based on current evidence, why wasn't Starscream the one being served? But back up, wait even more: what evidence did Skyfire have that Starscream hadn't already been served? Wasn't it possible… likely, even… that they'd tried first with _him_?

Of course. The answer came to Skyfire in an elegant manner, lofting down from on high. Starscream might not be a citizen, but he did have privileges. It wasn't so easy to question a military officer who didn't want to be questioned… he was far too likely to be privy to secrets that no civilian court could be allowed to hear. Permissions were required. The military secrets act mandated them.

Permissions which…

"Okay, nevermind." Skyfire looked at the ceiling again. Perhaps it wasn't so far away after all. "I'll cooperate…" He paused, giving them a moment to savor his capitulation. "Just be sure to get your warrant countersigned by two Decepticon generals, first."

The requirement for permissions applied to him too.

Skyfire had to smile. Surely Starscream would approve.

"Countersigned?" Jazz asked blankly, in what was probably fake confusion.

"Oh, give it up." Prowl, addressing his partner with naked disgust in his voice. Skyfire heard some shuffling off to the Prowl side, and before he knew it the strict officer was standing up and leaning in over him, forcing Skyfire to regard him and his predatorial stare. It was a masterful display of aggressive disappointment. "We tried."

What could Skyfire do but nod, smile fading? "I have rights," he responded simply, his stubbornness fading into chastened resignation. They _had_ tried. It was heavy-handed, but in their own way, these officers were tying to be on his side. "Sorry," he added, mumbling.

Prowl spent a few long moments searching Skyfire's face, before straightening out. "Oh well." He waved his hand dismissively, rejecting the apology and assertion of rights in a gesture of indifference.

"Best be careful you don't let your 'rights' shoot you straight through the spark," Jazz added, and his ironic tone was tinged with a dry sternness: he was probably more like his partner than he initially let on. But it was clear, too, that on some level he also approved. He must, if his small kind smile was any indication. "Well, don't forget that we'll always be available if your memories decide to unblock themselves." Jazz then lifted his gaze to Prowl. "Isn't that so?"

"Yes. " Curt, almost ungracious: but when Skyfire turned to look at the other officer, he saw a reflection of the same small smile Jazz wore. Perhaps Prowl, too, appreciated a worthy adversary when he crossed one.

"Thank you." Skyfire felt exceptionally meek.

But there was also something else he felt. A burning warmth filled his spark, comforting and consuming all at once.

It was good to know that he didn't always fail.

. + .

The next visit was almost as difficult as the first, although for entirely different reasons.

Off coolant bypass, but with many necessary repairs still pending and entire sectors of sensory circuitry completely dark, Skyfire did not rise as Windchaser shyly sneaked into the room. It was late, and the lights were dim, and it was clear she was making special efforts to be quiet, pausing every few steps to look this way and that. Attentive as an assassin.

Because she was being so careful it seemed like a shame to call out to her, so Skyfire simply watched, optics dimmed to suggest light recharge. It took forever, but eventually she arrived at the destination, eschewing the small visitor's chairs so as to perch lightly on the edge of the berth. She sat there quietly for a while, taking Skyfire's nearest hand in her own and holding it in her lap.

So sweet. Skyfire couldn't maintain the charade for very long. Slowly he curled his fingers around her hand, stirring as if wakefulness had snuck up on him as effectively as she'd tried to.

"Hi sport," she whispered, leaning in to give him a kiss on his cheek.

"No fair appropriating my nicknames." Skyfire was quiet, but he didn't whisper. "I created that one specially for you." He squeezed her hand a bit tighter, and brought his optics flickeringly to full brightness.

"You're in no position to dictate terms." She smiled down at him, and for a moment it felt like nothing had gone wrong between them. But then Skyfire saw the wistfulness in her eyes and he realized that for her, this bit of nostalgic banter was a bit forced. Windchaser tugged her hand back gently, freeing herself from Skyfire's grip so that she could instead run her fingers lightly over the outside portion of his closed but still-dented chestplate. "Oh, Sky."

Watching Windchaser sorrow over him made Skyfire ache. It also made him feel guilty, for reasons he didn't fully understand. Probably a part of it was simply shame because Starscream had proven her right. But that wasn't all, and he was at a loss to explain the sense of exposure that her sad little glances afforded him.

Perhaps an even bigger part of the problem was that although he'd poured apology after apology on an unmoved Starscream, he did not feel now as if he had a single "I'm sorry" left for her.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. If anyone deserved the courtesy and regard of his regrets, it would be her. But he just couldn't do it.

Eventually Windchaser's caresses slowed, becoming hesitant and fumbling. "Does it hurt?"

"Not particularly." Skyfire was surprised to realize how sullen he sounded. It was almost as if he wanted it to hurt, and was offended that it didn't.

"Why… why did he do this?"

Starscream wasn't a jerk, he wanted to tell her. He really wasn't. But the words became ensnared within his vocal processor as he was struck with another cruel irony.

He didn't trust her.

_He_ didn't trust _her_. Oh, in general he did. A great deal. But when it came to this one essential question, Skyfire found that he couldn't even admit that Starscream had done anything at all, let alone _why_. It was not inconceivable that she'd take any confession of his directly to the two officers who had questioned him earlier, adhering to the principle that Skyfire needed to be protected from himself. Even the slightest acknowledgement that Starscream had been involved might be all it took to get Starscream exiled.

The risk of losing Starscream was just too great, and she disliked Starscream far too much.

So all Skyfire did was shake his head 'no.'

Windchaser put her hand back in her lap. Skyfire did not attempt to retrieve it, even though his hand was still lying across her upper thigh.

"I see," she said, looking down, and away. "Did he—ah, come visit?"

"…not yet."

Starscream probably wouldn't. But he couldn't tell her that either. It would just make her hate Starscream even more.

The idea of Starscream being hated, by anyone but especially by her, filled him with an intensely lonely feeling.

None of this was fair. There was no reason one person should come between them like this.

Windchaser continued to slouch, awkward on her perch. Skyfire absently ran the back of his index finger up and down the top of her leg.

"Interface with me." His whisper was rather hoarse.

Jolted by the request, Windchaser took Skyfire's hand and moved it off her body. "You can't be serious."

Couldn't he be? He did want her, and it, so much.

Skyfire was unsure of many things, but he did know that he never wanted to pressure Windchaser ever again. Not through force, but not even through words. If Windchaser didn't want him to be serious, he would have to pretend not to be. But although his request had come out of the blue, his desire hadn't.

Being around her like this all the time, when nothing ever happened… normally that would be fine.

Not today.

"… I guess not."

After that, there just wasn't much to say, and together they spent the rest of her visit in silence.


	5. Seeker

+ seeker +

There he was. Skyfire stood at the end of the airship pier where he'd landed, halting before taking even one step. Beyond the hulking war ships docked neatly in a line, across the breezeway in the busiest (and most questionable) entertainment district in Kaon, Skyfire spied Starscream from afar.

He took a moment just to observe. Starscream, at least, didn't look like he was going anywhere: leaning back against a wall, petting the head of one of his random conquests as he was being serviced. As was usual for these Decepticon environs, he was hardly the only mech (or femme) engaging in such openly shameless acts. Although plenty of people were simply walking around, some arm in arm, and even more were gathered in groups at the open-air cafes and around dueling platforms, the standard comportment of off-duty Decepticons was always that of careless licentiousness.

Skyfire pulled down his telescoping visor, bringing the lewd details up to zoom. His friend appeared to be mid moan. Were it anyone else, Skyfire wouldn't dream of interrupting. But in Starscream's case, the Seeker had been actively ignoring him for deca-cycles, and Primus knew that he wouldn't be interrupting anything sacred anyway.

/Ah…hi./ He still felt a little ungainly, though. /I came to find you./

Surprise dusted Starscream's face for a moment, just a soft flicker of disturbance in the overall lust schema. Skyfire was glad that his visor could capture such high-resolution images; there was some morbid entertainment in catching Starscream off-guard. After the initial twitch, Starscream began to scan the crowds around him in an affectedly lazy way.

/Why?/

/Over here./ Skyfire sent the coordinates, raising his hand in a small wave as he ignored the question.

That's all it took for Starscream to lock on. /Yes, but what are you doing here?/ The question was brusque.

For a moment, Skyfire hesitated. They'd been cleared for resumption of interstellar explorations. Starscream knew this as well as he did. Therefore, the why and what-for should have been obvious: _were_ obvious, because Skyfire refused to believe that Starscream was at all truly baffled by his presence. These questions were not for information.

Shaking himself, Skyfire touched his fingers to his visor, ostentatiously adjusting it. /Watching, obviously./

And watching, especially as closely as he was, gave Skyfire a unique and perhaps unprecedented view of Starscream's answering flinch. Perhaps Starscream did not know just how good Skyfire's visor was. The recovery was characteristically smooth: a slow, dangerous smile broke across Starscream's face, and in a moment he was opening his interface unit, inviting his eager companion to grope. /Like what you see?/

Skyfire ignored the below-deck action. Well, with some difficulty he ignored it. Usually Starscream's antics were like so much background static, but in this case there was something oddly stricken in Starscream's voice. Oddly _stung_. What, was he not supposed to comment on what was plainly right in front of his eyes anymore?

That would be a new rule, and not a particularly welcome one. /Oh, never mind./ Frustrated, Skyfire put a hand on his hip, frowning across the distance that divided them. /Will you be coming back any time soon?/

/When I feel like it./

Leaving Skyfire on tedious, humiliating standby until such time as Starscream saw fit to resume relations with civilized society. He was loath, extremely loath, to answer Starscream's "why" and "what are you doing here?" questions, but it looked like there was no way of getting around it. There would be no way Skyfire would get any direct answers unless he gave a few of his own.

Even though that slagger already had to be perfectly aware of the answer to both questions.

Skyfire had been sending increasingly frequent communications over the last deca-cycle, wondering the very thing he'd _just_ asked.

He wouldn't have to be here if Starscream hadn't ignored each and every one of them.

Nevertheless, fine. /I'm here,/ he offered, tone tight and hopefully minimally polite, /in order to find out if you're done being slagged off./ For no good reason, he might have added, but didn't.

/I have _no idea_ what you're talking about./ Starscream's "sweet" voice.

/I'm talking about…/ Skyfire looked down. He knew Starscream's question was facetious, but a part of him wanted to answer it seriously. But that would just be falling into Starscream's clever trap, wouldn't it? /You know what I'm talking about./

He wasn't falling for it.

/I never get mad./ Sweetness ripened to pious smugness. /It's my greatest charm./

Lies. /No, I'd reserve _that_ prize for your ability to carry on a coherent conversation in the middle of…/ Skyfire still had his hand on his hip, but waved his opposite hand in a small gesture towards the rutting Seeker. /That./

/Jealous?/ Starscream opened his mouth, another apparent moan, and Skyfire saw that this garnered a few appreciative looks from mechs hanging out nearby. /I am, after all, quite popular./

What did popularity have to do with Starscream's abilities to dissociate from sex? Other than it made him jaded to the whole experience? Shaking himself, Skyfire ignored his own tangential musings. /Mmm... not really./ Things were getting to be pretty heated over where Starscream was. /Are you almost done?/

/Hardly./

A terse response.

Well, Skyfire could do terse too. /Then I'll wait./

For a moment silence lingered between them.

/Good plan,/ was the eventual reply. Starscream's tone was unmistakably dry as he continued to… do those things he always did. But again there was something else complicating Starscream's response, a shiver to his voice and a strangeness as he, Starscream, the irredeemable exhibitionist, looked away. /You know how much I love an audience./ He'd only looked away for a moment, though.

Skyfire tightened his lips as he considered the implication.

Maybe he should just leave after all. If Starscream was going to continue being like this there was no point in remaining. He could spend breems upon breems watching _this_ and still not get anything out of it. Not if, in the end, Starscream ducked away from answering all his questions. He'd end up feeling like quite the fool, wouldn't he?

He didn't have to play this game. Just because he said he'd wait it didn't mean he'd issued a challenge. Just because Starscream had proclaimed this idea "good" didn't mean Skyfire had to acknowledge that his partner had decided to accept.

The shuttle shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

No. Skyfire refused to feel awkward. He refused to allow himself to feel awkward.

It shouldn't be a problem, right? Such voyeurism was not uncommon on Kaon. It wasn't like anyone who caught him looking would think there was anything strange or inappropriate in his seemingly leering pose. And by now Skyfire was a veteran when it came to watching scenes like this. An old campaigner. A pro. He should be able to watch all day with an attitude of gregarious ennui.

After all, wasn't the one "jaded to the whole experience" _him_?

Starscream claimed he wasn't "mad," but the fact was that he'd been avoiding Skyfire before, and was still avoiding him now. If Skyfire left, that would just make everything worse.

So he wouldn't leave.

/I'll wait,/ Skyfire said again, hard, harsh, and implacable.

This time there was no acknowledgement of what he'd said, either in words or in action. Starscream appeared to be thoroughly absorbed in his… current activities.

It wasn't right. This behavior of Starscream's, it wasn't right. Skyfire had put his reputation on the line for Starscream. He'd stood up for him and protected him. There was no way Starscream didn't know this.

He'd not been expecting gratitude. Nor had he expected any apologies for what Starscream had done to him, either. But there was no mistaking that he'd been expecting more. Something else. Not this.

Skyfire didn't _want_ to be angry at Starscream for what the Seeker had done to him. He'd been willing to put it all behind him, to forgive and forget. Slaggit all, he'd even been willing to acknowledge that Starscream had had a point. That maybe there he'd deserved the beating he'd "won," if even just a little. _He_ wasn't going to call Starscream's attack a cheap shot, despite the fact that Starscream was the one who'd plied him with drinks during his time of need, callously insulting everything about his relationship and the girlfriend he loved. _He_ definitely hadn't planned on taking offense over the fact that Starscream had massively overreacted to some throwaway little drunken comment as if Skyfire had forever impugned his honor.

It wasn't like Skyfire was expecting Starscream to spontaneously become a civil mechanism capable of normal levels of decency or compassion, either. Wasn't the whole point of their friendship that Skyfire liked Starscream for what he was? Not despite it, but almost because of it?

Why was it so fragging hard for Starscream to give him reciprocal benefit of the doubt?

Having lapsed into a prolonged silence, Skyfire now sighed, irritably. Starscream, for his part, was still entirely caught up in what he was doing.

/Ah. Well./ Skyfire introduced vocal noise into his transmission, creating a coughing effect which should be obvious so long as Starscream were accepting the transmission's auditory feed. /At least you're getting it out of your system./ He couldn't help but let some of his inner sarcasm and annoyance modulate the transmission further. Why did Starscream need to be so difficult and discouraging?

Again the silence between them stretched. Skyfire lifted his visor. He didn't want to see any more flinches or fake smiles. Whatever sub rez emotional complications were informing Starscream's utterly rude and inconsiderate demeanor, Skyfire was no longer interested in examining them.

Starscream wasn't going to respond to that. He never was going to respond to that. Skyfire hadn't honestly expected him to, though.

/Ha. Who am I kidding? You'll never get it out of your system./

He tried to sound light, to come off laughing: but instead he had the distinct impression that he sounded annoyed and bitter.

/You're right. I won't./

At least now there was a reply. A very short, stonewalling reply, but words all the same.

/What a shame./ It was hard to mask the scornful way he was feeling, to hold on to the civility that was his native mode of being.

Was it Starscream's fault that Skyfire was feeling so uncharacteristically prickly?

Yes. Yes it was.

/What a shame,/ Skyfire continued, repeating his words with a touch more hostility. / I wonder what you're missing out on by focusing on such pleasures?/ In deference to his position, Skyfire left out the words "trivial" and "empty" just prior to the word "pleasures." He was sure they were understood, however.

/I'm missing out on being a virgin./ Nothing sweet about how he sounded now. /Another time, you can enlighten me to _those_ pleasures./

See, now that was just the lowest. Using information Skyfire had disclosed to him in drunken confidence as a weapon against him. How could Skyfire possibly _not_ find that upsetting? But this time, at least, Skyfire wasn't drunk. He wasn't going to cross the line and say something he shouldn't, not to someone who was his superior in both civilian and military worlds.

Even though, to be technical, Skyfire still held Starscream's entire scientific future in his hands. And he also shouldn't forget that he, lowly and humble Skyfire, was still a citizen of Iacon, the greatest city-state on Cybertron, and Starscream was not. /Fine. Whatever./ Skyfire turned away a bit, still keeping Starscream's actions in his sight but also taking in the changing scenery of the well-lit and lively entertainment district. /I'll leave you be../

/You do that./ Complete coldness.

/Just tell me one thing./ Skyfire turned a bit more, glaring for a moment at the war ships lined up to his left. /When you're ready to start doing some _real_ work, will you let me know?/ Frowning, he crossed his arms, and then looked back at Starscream, who was still obnoxiously distracted. /That is, presuming you still want me continuing my research work with you./ For some reason, the spectacle made him feel so leaden. /Considering the circumstances, I wonder./

/Stop whining./

What?

No, seriously. What?

/… whining?/

/Skyfire./ The retort came swiftly, this time. /Professor. Only glitches and idiots feel sorry for themselves./

/Uh…/

Skyfire was almost literally speechless.

_That_ was Starscream's problem? He couldn't handle Skyfire's "self-pity?"

Did that even make any sense?

Skyfire pondered.

Did it?

For a while his cerebral circuitry underwent an "abort, retry, fail?" routine, as he struggled to comprehend this so-called problem. It took a few brutally hard overrides as well as shutting down one or two of his more overtaxed logical circuits before Skyfire could begin to get a grip.

At least… was there any precedent?

Thinking back to the drunken evening of disaster, Skyfire vaguely remembered similar accusations.

Whining. Feeling sorry. Being maudlin. There was definitely a theme to Starscream's complaints. Skyfire had never thought of himself as being especially self-pitying, but apparently Starscream did. Setting aside whether such an assessment was in any way justified, in a way it made a weird sense. He couldn't imagine any behavior that the Seeker would despise more: Skyfire doubted that Starscream had felt sorry for himself ever in his entire life.

But where was he getting it from? Wasn't it natural for he, Skyfire, to feel sad about certain things? That wasn't the same thing as feeling sorry for himself.

He should have known. He should have expected it. Sometimes, Starscream just didn't make any sense.

There was no point in taking offense at someone so unpredictably irrational.

/All right./ Skyfire's eventual response was rather faint. /I- I guess I'll keep waiting after all./

That seemed like a good position.

Despite implied threats to keep it up for the rest of the day, it wasn't long before Starscream was disengaging from his temporary lover, closing off access to all intimate interfacing equipment. Prematurely, or at least unwantedly, if the pleading posture of the anonymous mech was any indication. Starscream appeared unmoved as he pointed imperiously away, looking down at the mech with a scowl.

Very soon Starscream was alone and leaning against the wall, staring directly at him. /Idiot./

No arguments from Skyfire. It was useless to place expectations on Starscream, no matter how small or seemingly obvious.

Was there even any point in mentioning that he'd never felt sorry for himself to begin with? Probably not. Instead of replying, he nodded a bit to himself, and looked across the distance to his partner.

Even without the assistance of telephoto magnification, he could see certain things.

Starscream's arms were crossed when he eventually resumed speaking. /Look. I just didn't feel like seeing you for a while. That's all./ Starscream's glare was steady. /Don't read too much into it./

He wouldn't. /Well, if you're done, then can I come over there and see you?/ Skyfire purposefully straightened. /Or would you rather I go home and leave you to your important whoring?/ Skyfire was proud of how equitable he sounded. /I mean, I'm good either way./

There was a bare moment of pause before Starscream transmitted peals of laughter. Sudden, confounding, contrary laughter. /Better./ Starscream sounded amused, genuinely amused. /That's much better./ There was a pause, and then Starscream transmitted in far softer tones. /You can come./

One thing was true: Starscream's outrageousness was a tonic.

Nodding, Skyfire smiled slowly. /Stay put. I'll be there in a klik./ He then waved, a temporary farewell as he turned to walk from the end of the pier to the connecting dock, removing himself from his lonely perch.

In peacetime, these docks were almost totally abandoned, and if there were guards stationed to watch the airships, they remained unseen. It may have been different had Skyfire himself not been a mechanism designed for space flight, however. He could land wherever he wanted. None would stop him.

The main artery of the docking bays curved in a crescent-shaped spiral, and so Skyfire passed pier after pier, head turned to look at the purple war ships, many times larger than his own alt-mode. These vessels were uncontestably beautiful, shipshape and arrogantly menacing. Not a single one possessed a spark.

Such a scene might have been gloomy were it quiet; however, the noise from the district traveled effortlessly across the way. Exiting the military stage, Skyfire came to the rather sparsely populated edges of the commercial area. This part of Kaon was tiered and terraced in a complex manner, gates and bridges and lifts connecting the various levels and open spaces. The crowd, the gaudiness, and Starscream could all be found deeper in, at the far edge of the crescent path which continued from the docks all the way to a golden point overlooking one of Cybertron's natural chasms. It was a little ways to go.

Catching sight of Starscream now that the airships were passed, his friend looked even smaller than before, further away. It had occurred to him that he could just fly over there; air traffic at the moment was light so he wouldn't have problems. But the walk felt necessary, or at least needed. Even though he was massively intelligent, Skyfire's thoughts were relatively slow and ponderous, as befitting a mechanism of his stature. He didn't always find it easy to keep up with Starscream's quicksilver (if error-prone) wit, and taking his time and covering distance allowed the journey of his thoughts to come safely to harbor.

Whenever Skyfire had much to digest, he found himself taking trips… long or short, it didn't matter. Time in motion, even if it was only in his root mode, soothed and steadied him. Made him feel whole.

/You're slow./ Starscream, grousing. His tone was reassuringly familiar.

/You're impatient,/ Skyfire countered.

/I could fuck two mechs by the time you get here./

/Feel free./ Skyfire was now well pleased with his decision to walk.

As Starscream continued, calling Skyfire "no fun" (amongst other things), foot traffic was picking up. Skyfire was beginning to approach the center of the action. Street musicians with spy-box alts were pumping out their latest creations via high volume multifocal stereo transmission systems. Heavy distortion seemed to be popular this stellar cycle.

By now Skyfire was well used to Kaon's loudness and brashness. He even had a certain fondness for it; this was Starscream's world, after all, and liking one implied liking the other. More and more Decepticons surrounded him, and despite his height, Skyfire no longer felt especially conspicuous.

/Make that five./

/I can't wait to meet them./

It was easy to smile over Starscream's boastfulness. But Skyfire knew that if Starscream really wanted to, he could probably collect a last-minute harem in the amount of time it took Skyfire to cross the remaining distance between origin point and destination.

Skyfire smiled anyway.

/No, no. If you take any longer I'm going to make you _fuck_ them./

/Terrifying./

Before Starscream could throw down with an appropriately witty reply, Skyfire was distracted by a little green Constructicon femme blocking his pathway. He stopped walking and gave the interloper a curious look; she was staring right back up at him, so obviously this was no accidental run-in. She was extremely cute; exquisite even, a slim excavator-type with smooth hydraulics and a gorgeous grin.

"Mmmm… you're cute," she said, suggestively tilting her hips to the side. Apparently her thoughts were simpatico to his.

/Intruder?/ This was Starscream, wondering helpfully from the sidelines, still a couple blocks away.

Cute femmes were Skyfire's bane. This one reminded him a little of Windchaser, around the eyes.

/She says I'm cute./

He was becoming a little weary of cute femmes.

"Not interested," Skyfire responded politely, according to the code Starscream had taught him. "Not interested," of course, meant exactly what it sounded like… in Iacon such an opening announcement would be seen as unbelievably rude, but here is was the height of proper manners: best to state one's intentions right off the bat.

/Since when is that a shock? Get rid of her./

/I'm trying./

"But you're so delicious." She reached forward to run a finger from his chest right down to his pelvic plating, teasingly. Skyfire shivered. "I'm totally no credit, you know." This was another part of the code: "no credit" meant that someone was interested, but purely for prurient reasons. It was as close as Decepticons came to claiming pure intentions. Starscream was also a "no credit" kind of mech, one who prided himself on never needing to use cash incentives to get good looking partners into his berth (figuratively speaking, obviously). "I'm just…" more illicit, unasked-for touching. "hungry for a snack."

/You're hopeless./ There was a brief pause. /Don't tell me you're interested./

He was a little turned-on, yes. But that was not the same thing as being interested. /N-no./ Occasionally this happened, where Skyfire was so overwhelmed by the beauty of the person hitting on him that he became a little paralyzed. _This_ was Skyfire's true whining mode. /She's too pretty!/ His words, a wail. Coming from the deepest part of his spark.

Still, he had to try.

"I-I'm sorry," Skyfire stuttered, abandoning the normal Decepticon protocol. Now both of her hands were on his body, tracing lewd circles in his nether regions. Usually people were not this forward! "T-thank you, ma'am, b-but I'm meeting a friend." He took a slight step backwards, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. "N-not today?" He looked past her now, over her shoulder to Starscream, who was approaching and looking disturbingly evil, baleful in posture and expression. "Please?"

"Ma'am?" The femme laughed, and then turned curiously to follow Skyfire's desperate gaze. "Oooooh." Her eyes flashed with enlightenment. "_I_ see." She gave Starscream a taunting little wave, and then turned back to look at Skyfire. Grin wider than ever, but she also stepped back. She looked both impressed and amused. "You're _Starscream's_ shuttle."

Now that she wasn't touching him in places that made him desperately uncomfortable to be touched, Skyfire was able to clear his head a little. "Yes?"

/Oh, _her_./ Starscream's own enlightenment was the disdainful sort. /I've interfaced with her several times./ Sneaking a peek, Skyfire saw that Starscream's threat level had downgraded from baleful to rueful. /You're right, she's way beyond anything _you_ can handle./

"Don't tell me you don't know?" The Constructicon was laughing now. "You're rather infamous."

In what way? Skyfire wondered if he dared ask. The answer might not be anything he wanted to know. Still… not knowing might be worse. "Infamous?"

"You _don't_ know!" She was crowing now, triumphant and giggling over this particular factoid. "That's precious." She approached again, this time a sidling movement coming up to his side, grabbing his arm and then turning to face in the same direction he was, sharing his view of Starscream, who was grim and implacably approaching. "See?" She pointed at Starscream, who lifted his arm threateningly to point right back at her, while clearly mouthing "what?" "You're his untouchable, special, adorable little toy."

She was touching him again. "T-that's not true."

"No?" Unconvinced, she continued to laugh, her giggle transforming into a low, sultry murmur. "Then why is he making such an unnecessary fuss?" She looked up at Skyfire, and snuggled to his side: a vixen pretending to be an innocent. Diabolical. "Why does he take you to clubs and bars while refusing to share, always giving you a nice little show?" Skyfire wanted to die. "_Everyone_ knows about you."

"You've g-got things all wrong."

"Do I?" Starscream was now in shouting range, and closing fast. Skyfire tried to pull his arm away but the Constructicon just tightened her grip.

"Ah, uh… yes."

It had never occurred to Skyfire that his presence implicated him in some greater perversion. That he wasn't seen as being coincidentally present, but a part of the entire tableau. That others assumed that he was _participating_ by watching. Never, ever had Skyfire considered this. Never.

To be assigned a role… and such a role!… by gossipy Decepticons was overwhelming his already overtaxed processors.

"Well… here comes your owner now." She was still laughing. "Let's see what _he_ has to say for himself."

Terminally embarrassed, Skyfire looked away. Or rather, he looked to the side, and down some, and although he could see Starscream he just couldn't look him in the eyes.

Not that Starscream was looking at him anyway; the Seeker didn't spare him a single glance as he marched right up to the femme, getting right up into her grill. Starscream was a bit taller, and made the most of this slight height differential by looking down his nose at her, his smile a sneer pitch perfect in its sense of superiority and daring.

"Counterbore."

"Starscream."

The femme, now positively identified by name, casually let go of Skyfire's now trembling arm. She took a half step closer to Starscream, countering sneer with a soft, challenging smirk. This femme, Counterbore: she truly knew how to work the upturned winsome expression as a tool of conquest.

Skyfire sensed something else from her, however, a strong and poorly suppressed current of desire, reaching out for Starscream. It was something in the way she leaned forward, and in the way her eyes brightened a bit too much for mere challenge. Nothing definitive, but he'd seen this in others before. Starscream was very good at inspiring strong feelings that he never attempted to return. Skyfire felt a sense of relief with this revelation; he desperately wanted to be on the outside again, not to feel like he had anything to do with these sorts of dynamics.

It never occurred to Skyfire to wonder if he was lying to himself.

"Professor, you made me wait." Starscream said this with his gaze still locked on Counterbore.

Skyfire didn't vocalize a sound, knowing that his input was neither required nor wanted at this juncture.

Counterbore laughed prettily. "Professor?" Starscream's sneer didn't change. "All right. I'll have you know that your _professor_ is quite charming." She clasped together her hands, and leaned in even more. "Can I play with him?"

After all she'd said before Starscream had arrived, hearing Counterbore plead for him like this should not have been at all surprising. It was all a part of some game she had with Starscream, and it had nothing to do with Skyfire himself, not really. Right? This had to be right. Skyfire decided that despite his sudden startle at her request, that he wasn't surprised. That it didn't bother him. Not at all.

This was just how Decepticons were.

Right?

Skyfire was tempted to speak up, to prove her accusations wrong by showing that he did, in fact, have agency. That he wasn't a toy. That he especially and specifically was not _Starscream's_ toy. But the words tangled into unutterable fragments long before they could exit his central processors.

Denying it would just make things worse, he decided. He wasn't going to say anything, not because he _cared_, but because he didn't want to say something clumsy and oafish that would make her think even more wrongful thoughts.

It soon became clear that Starscream wasn't going to say anything in response to Counterbore's question, either. His crooked smile became even more contemptuous, but that was all.

"Stingy," she said at last. She didn't pout, nor sound in the least put off. "You know I'd want you there too, to… supervise."

The way she drew out the word "supervise," in such an insinuating manner, helped to overheat several of Skyfire's already overheating processors. Some of his primary cooling systems began to initialize; with force of will, and despite the fact that it made him feel slightly sluggish and ill, Skyfire overrode his internal fans. He could not bear the humiliation of having his inexperienced embarrassment be made public like that.

"I'm surprised you wouldn't want to have me all to yourself." Starscream shook his head a little.

"It would be more fun to share." Counterbore had unclasped her hands soon after making her plea, and now raised one hand to gently stroke Starscream's chest, a gesture similar to the one she was using on Skyfire earlier. "Buuuut…. I'm always willing to negotiate."

"Mmm." Starscream nodded. Nothing changed in his expression, but his entire posture relaxed a bit. Finally, he flickered his gaze towards Skyfire. "Maybe later." The smirk faded into an irreducible calm. "The Professor there has delayed me too much as it is. We're leaving."

And now Counterbore turned to face him as well. "You see?" She gave Skyfire a conspiratorial half-shrug, shaking her index finger at him as if to scold.

Numb, Skyfire nodded slowly.

He wasn't sure he saw what she wanted him to see. What she was implying that he should have seen all along.

But then, he wasn't sure what he'd just "seen," period.

Whatever it was, he couldn't deny that he'd seen _something_.

Starscream frowned at Skyfire's response, as if surprised that he even had one. Without ceremony the Seeker then grabbed Skyfire by his closest hand, tugging hard. Follow me, the gesture clearly demanded.

Slowly, automatically, with choked fans and lagging processors, Skyfire obeyed.

"Bye, 'Professor!'" Counterbore waved cheerfully. "I'm counting on you! Convince him!"

To give Skyfire "permission" to play, presumably. Clearly she didn't believe he was capable of making such a decision on his own.

Or maybe she simply didn't want to cross Starscream.

For his own part, Starscream ignored this bit of by-play, leading Skyfire away. Hesitantly, Skyfire turned to look backwards, and gave Counterbore a small shy wave goodbye. It would have been rude not to.

Plus, she was so pretty. Unbelievably shameless, even for a Decepticon, but really. Very, very pretty.

He forced himself to face forward. It was a chore, and took some effort, but Skyfire made himself look at Starscream. The back of his wings, to be precise, since Starscream was walking a couple steps ahead, pulling Skyfire forward at a deliberate pace. Not slow, but not too fast. It wouldn't have been hard for Skyfire to outpace Starscream, or at least come even, but he'd only now felt it safe to allow his cooling fans to stutter to life, and was still somewhat in a daze.

And it would still be impossible to look Starscream directly in the optics.

After all, how could he when all of these very disturbing, very wrongful thoughts were swirling through his cranium? Processors finally allowed to cool, certain ideas and images were set into motion, and Skyfire started thinking about the imaginary life that he was presumed to lead. A world where he was kept on standby while Starscream fucked, not because he was interested in discussing lofty science matters or philosophical disagreements, but because… because…

His thoughts stuttered to a halt. Because he was a _toy_.

Used for—used for—

It was so hard to even think it.

Before he could continue down this dark path, Starscream decided to speak up.

"I can't believe how bad you are at turning people down." Starscream sounded clinical, but not detached. Exasperated, maybe.

"But she was so—"

"Pretty." Starscream cut him off, distinctly annoyed.

"Yeah…"

"What about your precious girlfriend? What would she think if she saw you like that?"

Skyfire looked away, not able to keep his gaze on Starscream for long. "She knows." He mumbled. "S-she always said it was cute…"

"_Everyone_ tells you it's cute!" For some reason, this just irritated Starscream even more. He led Skyfire onto a bridge, cutting through the crowd gathered there without so much as an "excuse me." "Stop taking it so personally!"

Stop taking compliments personally? Normally Skyfire would laugh at such a ridiculous statement, but it was hard to laugh when he was feeling so discombobulated. "Ah… yeah." He'd get right on it.

"She's not _that_ pretty, Professor. Honestly, I can't tell why you're so worked up…"

"It's not… it wasn't that…"

For a moment, Starscream paused, but he didn't look back, nor did he let go of Skyfire's hand. "What was it, then?"

He almost didn't want to say. But Skyfire could also sense Starscream's growing annoyance, and although he didn't really understand it, perhaps he could nip it in the bud by telling the truth. It would be… quite painful, actually, to have to endure another period of Starscream ignoring him. So Skyfire opened his mouth, and closed it, only to open it again a moment later. "She, uh, said that… people are thinking that… mmm…" The words didn't want to come out. "That I belong to you. That… uh… I'm your property—"

"She said that?" Quiet, carefully.

"Yeah…" Hilarious, right? It would be good if Starscream laughed it off.

But no. That was not what happened. Instead, Starscream started walking again. "I see," was all he said.

After a moment, though, Skyfire noticed that maybe Starscream was holding his hand a little more tightly than before.

It was hard to be sure.


	6. Release

+ release +

"Come on, try it."

Looking down at the syrupy glowing energon, purpled pink and glittering, Skyfire poked one finger into it, swirling it in deep suspicion. "You're sure it's safe?"

Ratchet nodded. "I used Wheeljack's chromatograph to analyze the substrate both before and after the catalytic conversion process."

Translation: no.

"You mean I'm one of your first victims?" Skyfire removed his finger, looking at the dripping fluid dubiously.

"I prefer the term 'subject.'"

"And I prefer the term 'no.'"

"Don't be such a stuck nut." For an undergraduate liberal arts student, Ratchet had already mastered professorial levels of dismissiveness and anti-social charm. "Nobles drop obscene credit on this, and here you are, getting it for free. Try it."

Naturally it was free. Wasn't that what being a victim... sorry, test subject... was all about?

But really, Skyfire had no particular call to be so suspicious. Ratchet was an academic drifter, sure, the perpetual student, and when it came to pinning himself down to one specialty he was unusually flaky. _However_, when it came to his sideline business of providing expensive boutique "natural" blends of crude energon to Cybertronian aristocrats, he was 100% pro.

"All right," Skyfire said, relenting. He brought the mixture to his lips, giving Ratchet a sour look. "But if I sustain systems damage I'm sending you my repair invoices." Mostly, he was just afraid of the taste. "Cheers."

Such fears as Skyfire had entertained proved themselves to be entirely justified as his gustatory receptors boldly recorded a burst of sharp metallic bitterness. Like molten steel threaded with tungsten. Skyfire grimaced and coughed against the lingering sensation.

"_Strong_," was his choking, preliminary judgement.

"Mmm." Ratchet crossed his arms, smiling in pleasure. "Isn't it, though?" He looked extremely proud of himself.

Offlining his optics, Skyfire concentrated on the evolving sensory experience. Nobles liked their energon to dance the edge between revolting and sublime, coding such tastes as "refined" and congratulating themselves on their superior acuity. It was true that the cool, almost shimmering cascade of flavor was complex and fairly nuanced, at least after the initial overwhelming assault. The sort of flavor Skyfire could even see himself tolerating, perhaps, after thoroughly torturing himself via a habituating acquisition of taste.

But why do that when run-of-the-mill mid grade was so smooth and naturally satisfying?

The taste eventually faded, and Skyfire onlined his optics once more, shaking his head in perplexion as Ratchet smirked on. "Nng... Why do they spend so much money on this, again?"

"Bored people like novelty." Ratchet retrieved the empty cube. "Also, this is formulated to give a notable performance boost. And, heh..." A deceptively avuncular grin. "It also has some pleasure enhancing effects."

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Nope. Not at all." Ratchet looked passed Skyfire, and started waving. Waving someone over, looked like. Skyfire turned.

The two friends were seated in the middle section of the university's main cantina, a light-filled, airy space designed along the most modern architectural principles. This was a time of day when most students were off in class, so most of the seating was comfortably available. Entering through the main strip were two mechs Skyfire also knew fairly well. One was Beachcomber, a fellow student of xenodetics, and the other was Ratchet's darling Wheeljack, professor of engineering and Ratchet's favorite partner in crime.

"Hi, you two!" This was Wheeljack, relentlessly upbeat as usual.

"He tried it!" And here was Ratchet again, sharing his latest "experimental findings" with unusual glee. Belatedly, Beachcomber waved.

"Results?"

"An overall loss of faith in the recreational consumption habits of nobles," Skyfire reported, speaking up before Ratchet could say anything. "Side effects analysis still pending."

"In other words, a complete success." Ratchet couldn't have come off any more smug and self-impressed if he tried.

"Got some for me?" Beachcomber thought to wonder, as he and Wheeljack took seats nearby. Unsurprisingly, Ratchet whipped out a small cube from subspace and offered it to Skyfire's classmate.

"I'm not feeling any of your amazing side effects, though," Skyfire said, addressing Ratchet with a falsely apologetic grin. He brought one foot up to the edge of his seat, propping his elbow onto his knee. "Wouldn't you say your assessment is premature?"

Ratchet held up one finger, commanding pause. "Ah aah." He wagged his finger at Skyfire. "Give it time."

Skyfire simply shook his head slowly. He'd rather not.

"Mmm..." Beachcomber lifted the small cube, holding it up and examining it as if it were test tube containing all of the secrets of the known universe.

Ratchet retrieved another cube from subspace, and then gave Wheeljack a questioning glance.

"I don't want any," Wheeljack said, laughing as he waved Ratchet off. "The last time I tried one of your creations, I ended up inventing a spark-swapping device and found myself in the body of a femme I know."

Ratchet shrugged and started drinking it himself. instead. "You had fun though, didn't you?" Unlike Skyfire, he appeared unmoved by the acerbic taste.

A spark swapping device? Skyfire shuddered.

"Far out." Beachcomber sounded gravely earnest as he sipped at his drink. "I'd like to borrow that sometime."

This pronouncement caused Wheeljack, Ratchet, and Skyfire all to lapse into a thoughtful silence. But if Skyfire thought that silence meant the other two were on his side in terms of incredulity, he was soon proven wrong.

"You'd have to be careful." Wheeljack leaned forward after his own thoughtfulness period passed. "It's _very important_ not to end up accidentally swapping with someone against their will." He appeared lost in memories. "_Very_ important."

Dead wrong.

"It's true, there are several interesting recreational variations one could try." Ratchet rubbed at his jaw. "We could easily modify it for commercial use..."

Ridiculous, and insane. Honestly, were any of them any better than Starscream in the shamelessness department?

Skyfire opened his mouth to tell them so, but then was distracted by an unexpected thought.

What _if _he were to swap... with Starscream?

What _would_ it be like to have Starscream's body for his own?

The very idea was... totally embarrassing. In a very weird way. Like, if he was inside Starscream's body, then he'd have pretty much a free pass to use it however he wanted... to touch himself, even. And nobody would be surprised by it because he'd be Starscream and that was what Starscreams _did._ And then the real Starscream, in the meanwhile, would be messing around with _his_ body, and obviously Starscream would take complete advantage. But it would be okay, because in the end their positions would be switched, and then every Decepticon would think that _he _was the one in charge, and he could therefore order the real Starscream about with impunity, and Starscream would have to take it so as not to have his reputation sullied...

Skyfire was starting to feel rather warm. How did he ever come up with such a stupid fantasy? He normally didn't think such stupid things.

"I appear to be detecting some ferrous notes," Beachcomber was saying, with Ratchet listening intently. "Along with a raw ionized charge. Was that intentional?"

"Depends." Ratchet leaned back. "I'm going for an effect reminiscent of forged armor, to bring to mind the peerless strength and power of Cybertronian military might." Skyfire must have given him a startled look, then, because Ratchet became sheepish as he turned to look his way. "That's how I'm billing it, anyway."

"Not to Decepticons, you're not." Not if he had any sense.

Wheeljack began to laugh.

Ratchet, however, was undeterred. In fact his expression became even more intent. "Do you think there might be a market there?"

Mmm. Skyfire considered. Why would any self-respecting Decepticon want to futz around with expensive, unpalatable energon with vaguely defined "performance boosting" and "pleasure enhancing" qualities?

As far as Skyfire could tell, Decepticons really didn't need any assistance along those ends.

"I'm going to do you a favour and not take that question seriously," Skyfire said after a brief pause, trying to sound as kind as he could.

As Wheeljack continued to laugh, having never entirely stopped, Ratchet crossed his arms and frowned at the floor. Beachcomber, who'd ignored the entire by-play, was still taking little sips and nodding to himself, as if struck by several profound thoughts. Thus, there was a bit of a break in the conversation. A lull.

And into this lull, more stupid thoughts flooded in.

Ever since the other day, when that Decepticon femme had proclaimed Skyfire to be "Starscream's toy," Skyfire was finding himself sometimes, randomly, thinking about what had followed. When Starscream had taken him by the hand, and pulled him away. Starscream had held onto him for a really long time, hadn't he?

Forget about body swapping, there was just something about that whole encounter that was... really nice.

Embarrassing, sure, terribly so. But also weirdly reassuring. During Starscream's period of avoidance, it had really seemed like Starscream might not care about him at all. That Starscream had written him off, in that easy, never-blink-twice way of his. It didn't take a lot for someone to permanently end up on Starscream's "dead to me" list. Sometimes the smallest thing could do it. And it didn't even matter if Starscream himself were the one at fault: Starscream's interest was almost always based on whim, and it was abundantly clear that he didn't really care deeply about anyone, and moreover, didn't care that he didn't care. It never bothered him at all.

It was surprising and... gratifying, then, that Starscream's actions appeared to confirm at least a part of that Decepticon, Counterbore's, allegations. Not that Skyfire was an actual toy; that was verifiably ridiculous and untrue. Maybe not from the outside, how it _looked,_ but Skyfire knew what it was from the inside and there really wasn't anything sexual about it. But it really seemed like Starscream was possessive of him, possessive enough not to deny it, possessive enough to even openly _act_ like it.

I thought you were my friend, was what Skyfire had said back when he was overcharged. He's said this just before making his fatal mistake. _I thought you were my friend._

Maybe his feelings of friendship were not as one-sided as he'd thought.

"I think you're mistaken," Ratchet said finally, breaking the lull.

At first Skyfire didn't really attend to what was said, but when Ratchet repeated himself, saying "Hello? You're mistaken," Skyfire then looked up, and saw that Ratchet was addressing him.

So... huh? Skyfire tried to bring himself back on track, to pick up the lost thread and connect this idea to what he'd said last. Not that difficult, it turned out: Ratchet wanted to be taken seriously, refusing all face-saving favors.

Well, it wasn't like he hadn't been warned. Skyfire smiled slowly. "Even if this stuff worked exactly as advertised, which I find very doubtful by the way... how in the world would you plan on selling it?"

Ratchet just had no idea how Kaon, or for that matter any of the Decepticon districts, worked. For instance:

"Easy. I'd just need to set up a distribution network." It sounded as if he thought the answer was obvious.

It wasn't obvious to Skyfire. Distribution?

As in... getting other people to do the work for him?

Specifically, getting _Decepticons_ to do it for him?

Even more specifically...

"You'll never rope _me_ into your schemes," Skyfire said, wings twitching now as he started to see the humor. Wheeljack was right to laugh at this.

"I didn't mean you..." Ratchet said, in the hurt tones of someone who absolutely meant "you."

Well then, who?

"What about the professor you work with? Starscream?" Ratchet was persistent. "Do you think he'd be interested?"

Ratchet only knew two Decepticons, period.

Skyfire looked over at Wheeljack, who gestured as if to say, "you see?" Wheeljack was giggling, and after a moment, Skyfire was too.

It didn't matter that Ratchet was apparently being entirely serious.

Worse than not understanding Decepticons? He didn't understand Starscream _at all_.

"Uh. No." This was Skyfire's eventual answer.

Ratchet sighed, as it became clear that laughter was the only answer he was to receive. "This university lacks visionaries." He sounded a bit melancholy as he said this, and ignored the increasing laughter that his lament induced.

Studiously oblivious, Beachcomber had set his half-filled cube onto the table and had pulled out some mysterious vials, his own personal reagents and catalysts, and was currently supplementing Ratchet's drink with some complex titration of his own.

Slowly the laughter subsided, and gradually all attention was focused on Beachcomber.

"Whatcha doing there?" Wheeljack finally asked, speaking to the intense curiosity they surely all were feeling.

Drip... drip... drip. Beachcomber didn't answer, didn't even appear to register the question.

This was some seriously deep pipetting.

Ratchet reached over and touched Beachcomber on the arm, waiting for a moment when the pipette was not being held over the cube so as not to disturb the alchemy. "Hey." His interruption was very gentle.

Finally Beachcomber looked up, a slow-dawning "ah" as he realized that he'd become interesting. "Yes?"

Wheeljack, again, scooting closer so he could lean in and look at Beachcomber's portable chem lab. He appeared utterly fascinated. "What're you up to there, bud?"

"Ooooh, yeah." Beachcomber nodded, finally getting why his attention had been summoned. "I'm boosting the flavor by adding trace amounts of manganese, and also I'm adjusting the energon to be more mellow." He smiled. "You can never have too much mellow."

Clearly, Beachcomber's credo for life.

It was kind of amazing that he, Beachcomber, and _Starscream_ shared the same general academic discipline. Especially Starscream... who couldn't be more of a polar opposite to Beachcomber if he tried.

Funny. Beachcomber was all right, Skyfire liked him well enough.

But if he had to choose who he'd rather spend time with on a deep-space mission, there simply was _no comparison_.

Ignoring the ensuing technical debate between Ratchet and Beachcomber over the merits of Beachcomber's undoubtedly more delicious adjustments to Ratchet's overclocked energon brew, Skyfire again found himself lost in fantasy.

Because... well, he really did like Starscream a lot, didn't he?

And he really did think of him as a friend. As a very, very dear friend.

Probably, Starscream himself would sneer at Skyfire if he ever voiced such sentimentality aloud. But it was true, and considering that Skyfire now knew that it was in some way returned, he found it pretty easy to admit it to himself. They'd been becoming good friends for a while now.

Skyfire thought some more about that incident.

_"Where are we going?"_

_Starscream was pulling him towards a lift platform, his grip tight and unyielding. "Where you want," was the curt answer. "Iacon."_

_Oh, they were going to fly then. That would be good; Skyfire desperately needed to cool down, which so far was not happening, at least not at any satisfactory rate._

_But it was puzzling. If they were going to fly, why didn't they just... fly? Casually, Skyfire tilted his head sideways to look down over the causeway's edge, and then slowly looked upward toward the open sky. All clear. This district was deep in a defensible crevasse, but there still plenty of room. Room enough for an entire_ airship fleet_ to deploy: surely one shuttle and his smaller tetrajet "master" could handle it._

_Skyfire opened his mouth to say something, but caught himself in time. For one thing, he didn't trust his vocalizers just then. But more importantly... why ask why? If he'd tried to make sense of each of Starscream's capricious actions, he'd find himself swiftly going forward on a conveyance to nowhere._

_The lift would take them up to where they could take off. The fact that they could do it_ right now_ was immaterial._

_Stepping onto the lift, Skyfire expected Starscream to release him, and even pulled his hand back slightly... only to meet stiff resistance. Immediately Skyfire desisted._

_They stood still and silent as the lift slowly began its ascent. This one was a local, meaning it made many stops on its way to the surface. A few people got on after them; it was a fairly big platform. Skyfire had to dampen his cooling fans again, now that there were other people around, which made him frantic to reach the top._

_And never did Starscream drop his hand. Skyfire even looked down at their joined hands, cautiously, as if there were some magic spell that would be broken dare he look. Starscream's expression was stony and resolute; he was staring upward towards the approaching sky, and not looking at Skyfire at all._

_Up until then, Skyfire had done nothing, not clasping his hand around Starscream's, not returning the gesture in any way other than via passive acceptance. But now he was so happy; he was bringing Starscream home. And soon, they'd be off into space again, and it would be like old times. Hesitantly, Skyfire finally squeezed back, curling his fingers slightly around Starscream's smaller hand. It was a very small gesture._

_Right after, Starscream let go._

Even though Skyfire had wanted it to go on.

Indefinitely.

This thought troubled Skyfire. The point had been proven; they were friends, even Starscream thought so. So the need for the hand holding had been obliterated; besides, it wasn't really either of their style.

Maybe it had been nice, but could it possibly have been a little _too_ nice?

There was something wrong, and very stupid, about wanting to try it again.

"Skyfire?"

Someone was shaking him. "Skyfire?"

His optics flickered back on; he'd not even realized that he had turned them off. "Uh... sorry." It was Ratchet shaking him; Ratchet who was standing beside him with an unholy smile upon his face. "Distracted."

"I'll say." All traces of Ratchet's former melancholy had vanished. "So what were you distracted _about_?"

That was... extremely none of his business. "Whether there is such a thing as too much mellow." Skyfire pressed his lips together sullenly, and looked to the side.

"I don't think you're in danger of discovering that any time soon," said Wheeljack, tone dry.

What? Unfair. Just because he was flustered and a bit flush, that didn't mean he wasn't feeling _mellow_. Or at least, that he hadn't been, prior to being ripped out of his thoughts mid-reverie.

But it was true that Skyfire had been bluffing with his answer, and probably it was obvious to both Wheeljack and Ratchet (Beachcomber's observational powers tended to be rather narrowly defined and thus he was not included in Skyfire's mental rant). Ratchet probably was thinking that the minor stimulant properties of his energon concoction were to blame, but... but...

Skyfire had been thinking about this topic of Starscream's recent actions pretty regularly, ever since the Incident. Almost... incessantly.

Almost as if.

Oh no.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid. _Stupid_.

Since fragging _when_ had he decided to register the fact that Starscream was actually, undeniably attractive?

He'd always acknowledged it, of course. He'd have to have been stupid... well, even more stupid... not to.

But...

Yes. No. This was something totally different. Something... well, friendship was beside the point on this one, wasn't it?

Skyfire wanted to bury his face in his hands and shake his head in despair, but he had appearances to maintain. Somehow, he must maintain them.

Pulling himself together, marshalling all of his resources to maintain his native calm, Skyfire smiled weakly. "Perhaps the energon is affecting me more than I realized." It wasn't, probably, but that was a dignified way to frame his stupidity.

"I'll never cease to be fascinated by your complete transparency," Ratchet said, fondly. "It's not high grade, you know."

Meaning that the effects shouldn't have kicked in yet? Slag. "Oh."

Skyfire had a moment of feeling very aggrieved, before returning to the more pressing concern of his traitorous processing core.

He didn't iwant/i to think of Starscream that way. Not at all. Not in the least little bit. Not only would that possibly jeopardize their working relationship, and not only was Starscream a terrible, terrible candidate for these sorts of feelings... he himself was, lest he forget, _already taken_.

It was treason, mutiny, how his higher-order analytical programs rushed to inform him that his attraction, and fondness, might possibly in some way be reciprocated.

Or perhaps that was delusional wishful thinking.

"So... thinking of trying to get some moves in on your girlfriend before taking off into the dark and empty yonder?"

The insinuating concerns of a true friend. Skyfire might have found himself sarcastically touched, in other, less fraught circumstances.

"Yeah, sure," he said instead, absently.

"Hmm." Ratchet took a step back, and then waved Wheeljack over. Beachcomber had gone back to his private refinements. Before Skyfire knew it, he had two Autobots standing in front of him, looking him over as if he were exhibiting signs of interesting, exotic systems corruption.

"Ignoring questions of salacious merit... that seems suggestive of grave malady." Wheeljack crossed his arms, looking grim, but even though Skyfire was distracted he didn't miss the conspiratorial glance exchanged between the two.

"A full diagnostic evaluation is in order." Ratchet said that as if put-upon, but Skyfire knew it was all lies.

"No, I think a focused assessment would be more appropriate. Time is of the essence!" Wheeljack was obviously getting into his role; Ratchet tended to be very good at inspiring his friends into spontaneous acts of situational drama.

"Indeed. Time with the girlfriend doesn't just replicate itself." Ratchet paused. "_Or does it_?"

"An interesting question!" And actually, a chilling one, considering to whom it was asked. It was not outside the bounds of probability that Wheeljack might table that question for serious consideration at a later date.

"Shall we begin?" Ratchet leaned in, and started knocking on Skyfire's chestplate.

Skyfire gave in, or rather, gave up. This was a battle he was not going to win. "Stop that." He grabbed Ratchet's forearm firmly but carefully, and moved it away from his body. "Okay. Fine. I'm sorry for being insufficiently interested in your intensely personal questions."

"That's better," Ratchet said, rubbing his hands together. Chop chop, all business. Back to his normal self, impromptu role as a love medic abandoned. Ratchet smiled. "Only Beachcomber can get away with being so spacy."

Beachcomber, of course, didn't even look up when his name was mentioned.

"Yeah, I'm sorry," Skyfire said again, this time sounding more sincere in his apology. "It's just, with the survey coming up and all, a lot is on my mind..."

And considering just who his companion would be during said survey, Skyfire needed to get a hold of these inconvenient and unwanted feelings, post haste.

Because it was certain, absolutely certain, that these feelings were unwanted. Unacceptable. Unreturned.

Weren't they?

He just needed to remember. Starscream was his _friend_.

... his dear, dear, dear friend.

And Windchaser...

He owed her, loved her, way too much to be unfaithful to her now.

Look at that. His mind was wandering, yet again; Ratchet was staring at him now, faux concern morphing into the real variety.

This would all be much easier to deal with without an audience tracking his every blank stare, his every awkward pause. It made him feel rude. No-- scratch that. It _was_ rude.

He should go.

"...Speaking of. I need to get going. Do you mind?" Skyfire looked first at Ratchet, and then at Wheeljack, waiting for each to give silent consent. A small relieved smile from Ratchet: yes. A nod from Wheeljack: yes. After a pause, Skyfire also looked over toward Beachcomber.

No response. Naturally. So Skyfire spoke up: "Beachcomber? Beachcomber?" He had to repeat himself a few times before the other mech looked up. "I'm leaving."

Beachcomber stood up, and reached across the table, holding out his hand. "Peace."

The formality surprised Skyfire a little, mostly because he hadn't expected Beachcomber to remember that he was soon to be gone for several stellar cycles. The others, yes, but him?

Skyfire felt rather gratified as he reached out to shake Beachcomber's hand. "Thanks," he said, meaning it.

So now it was handshakes all around. Skyfire stood up. Wheeljack went for the two-handed approach, putting both of his hands around Skyfire's and shaking vigorously. "If you figure out how to replicate time, let me know."

And Ratchet went for casual nonchalance. "Don't get lost."

"What's the fun in that?" Skyfire grinned.

The rest of the good-byes and farewells went well; it was not the nature of either Skyfire or his friends to be especially sentimental over minor partings such as this.

Leaving, walking away; as soon as his back was turned, Skyfire lost his smile, and became lost again in thoughts.

It was a shame to have cut the visit short, but Skyfire had no choice.

Soon, too soon, the only companionship that Skyfire would have would be from Starscream. And his girlfriend, the one to which he had pledged to be faithful and with whom he intended to remain loyal, would be completely out of reach.

This was hard to think about.

And stupid.

An ache of indeterminate origin began to bloom throughout his body.

. + .

**Author's Note**: and yes, this is where the hiatus begins. I fully intend to finish this, but on my own time, which is... whenever!


	7. Desire

+ desire +

Ah, great. Perfect.

Upon arrival to Starscream's lab, Skyfire stopped just inside the threshold, and felt the most wicked temptation to turn back around.

Would it be all that bad, really, to just turn right back around, and leave?

After all, who could blame him? Inside was a scene of cold war hostility, an unexpected and disconcerting tableau. In the one corner, perched on Skyfire's immaculate bench, was Windchaser. In the opposite, behind a far less immaculate bench, was Starscream. Skyfire appeared to have entered during an interpersonal duel of withering contempt. One would stand, one would fall.

Or maybe it would just be a case of mutually assured destruction.

Unfortunately, the decision to leave was taken from him. Starscream turned to glare at Skyfire almost immediately, a look that both said "this is your fault" and "fix this." The deep sense of blame radiating from the Seeker was almost laughably hypocritical, considering how hypersensitive he'd proven himself to be about any similar accusations sent _his_ way. Affecting a serious, non-judgmental mien, Skyfire turned to look at Windchaser, and she was especially thorough in how she simply... ignored him.

Instead of registering his presence, Windchaser was staring across the way at Starscream, giving him a challenging, knowing grin, even kicking her legs out in a slow swinging motion. It was almost flirtatious, her hatred.

Skyfire sighed. No, he couldn't escape. "Hi, sport," he said, addressing the element he deemed least combustible, evil smiles not withstanding. When there was no real response other than an absent "mmm-hmm," he walked over to Windchaser and pressed a kiss onto the top of her head, an action which garnered an almost sheepishly apologetic look from her. That would have been charming and good, except that her expression almost immediately evolved into something more guarded, and almost regretful. That was far less charming, and far less good. "What's up?" he asked, quietly.

"I'm here to see the both of you off," Windchaser replied. She bit her bottom lip, and the sadness momentarily increased. But for some reason she followed up with another challenging look towards Starscream. "Mister Genius over there hasn't been very gracious, though. Did you know that he's been ignoring me the whole time I've been waiting?"

Uh. Skyfire turned to look back at Starscream, who was still glaring at him, with crossed arms and an air of almost smarmy restraint. "Hardly, Autobot," Starscream said, not bothering to look at her at all. "_Professor_, would you mind taking your Autobot elsewhere for these touching farewells? I have work to accomplish."

Windchaser hopped down from the bench, lightly, as if she'd been specifically waiting for that. She sauntered past Skyfire, and was back to barely acknowledging him, all attention focused on Starscream. "Oh, don't be like that," she said, softly, with patent insincerity. "I want to say goodbye to you too."

"Maybe we should go..." Skyfire cut in diffidently, with a slight cough.

/Don't you dare stop me,/ Windchaser shot back, via private commlink. Having lifted his hand towards her in an unconsciously imploring gesture, Skyfire now looked down at it with a frown. He then shook his head, backing off.

"I'm serious." Windchaser said, continuing. She cocked her head to the side and walked over to Starscream's bench, putting her hands down flat on the cluttered surface, leaning forward towards the standing Seeker, who was on the other side. She was a fair bit taller than him, so this little gesture brought her head level to his. Her predatory smile was, well... sexy. "I want to say goodbye, _Decepticon_."

For a moment Starscream looked almost surprised, and even nearly amused. But that moment was soon over, and he slapped his hands down on the bench, replicating her gesture lean-for-lean, and dialed up the contempt to eleven. "Your boyfriend's right here, you know," Starscream stage-whispered. "But if you must." Starscream reached forward, holding out a finger as if planning on stroking her face tenderly... a gesture thwarted by the way that Windchaser suddenly backed off, standing up straight, stiff. "Professor?" Starscream's voice became louder. "Were you aware your Autobot was so forward?"

It was impressive, the way that Windchaser barely quivered. Somehow she even called up a brittle little smile. "Charming."

This was not happening. Skyfire attempted to summon his own glare of disapproval. "Seriously?" He meant this for the both of them, because this whole confrontation had the air of game-playing farce, and Skyfire thought that Windchaser was above such pettiness... and that Starscream was too good for games, period. But what had been intended to come off as forceful, and maybe even irritated, came off instead as nothing more than weak-jointed incredulity.

Were they serious? Was this actually happening?

Starscream acknowledged Skyfire's ineffectual interjection with small head tilt. It was obvious that he was still annoyed, but somehow amusement was winning out. "The Autobot wants to play. Who am I to spoil the fun?"

"She does _not_ want to play, and stop provoking her." Somehow this just caused Starscream to smile at him more broadly, so he faltered. "Please?"

"Very well." Starscream looked up at the ceiling and made a little face, bored and graceless. "Nevermind." The Seeker scratched at the side of his face. "Goodbye, then. Oh, how I will miss you." The insincerity was caked on like mud.

Would that serve? Windchaser half turned to give Skyfire an appraising look. He tried his best to look completely innocent: making a "what do you know?" face, shrugging his shoulders upwards as if amazed by Starscream's (admittedly weak) stab at something resembling courtesy. That was the best she'd get; he hoped she would take it.

And for a moment it seemed like she might, giving Skyfire a level gaze and then nodding, slowly. When she turned to face Starscream again, the grin was gone. "I expect you to take good care of him." It was not bravado. It was not a threat, exactly, either. "Not that I need to remind _you_ of how breakable shuttles are."

For a moment, the silence echoing through Starscream's lab was total.

Casually, ever-so-casually, Starscream detached his shoulder mounted null ray, laying it lengthwise along the bench. Lightly, he stroked along the shaft. This alone was ominous, but even more so was the suddenly serious look on his face as he stared down at his weapon, a look stripped of all lust, avarice, annoyance, or amusement. His expression was beautifully blank.

Oh no. /Be nice,/ Skyfire found himself pleading, agonized and beseeching over private commlink as he addressed Starscream. /_Please_./

To this, Starscream gave Skyfire a frank stare, not bothering to hide the fact that he was looking beyond Windchaser, and after a moment his expression settled into an annoyed pout. "Sure," he said at last, ungraciously, turning his attention back to his gun. He hefted it and then pointed the barrel at the ceiling, screwing off the element containing the live munitions. "I'll watch out for him."

/Don't I always?/ Starscream added, turning to the wall to take down his cleaning kit.

Oh.

Hmm. /Yeah./ Skyfire looked away, feeling kept and shy.

There was a long pause, wherein no one said anything, and in which nothing happened other than Starscream opening his kit and laying out the equipment.

Finally, Windchaser stirred. "Mh-hmm," she said, answering Starscream "promise" with a noncommittal murmur, before whirling around to face Skyfire.

"Your turn," she said brightly, with false cheer.

"So now I get your full attention?" Skyfire noted, bemused.

"Yes. I got what I wanted from Mister Genius." Windchaser took a few steps towards him, and the stopped, just looking up. "I'm going to miss you," she said after some time.

Ah yes. This brought up a curious issue that had been nagging Skyfire from almost the moment he had shown up. Why was Windchaser here? She'd said she had wanted to say her goodbyes, which was odd because Skyfire and Starscream weren't leaving yet, not for a fortnight. He hadn't been able to process any confusion about that, however, since she'd launched right into her unnecessary (but sweet) confrontation with Starscream. Now that was over, it really sounded like Windchaser still wanted to say goodbye to him, too. It didn't make a lot of sense. "Kinda premature for that, don't you think?"

"Uh. No, not really. My own trip has been bumped up a bit."

Skyfire's optics widened. "How soon?"

"Later today." She looked away. "I'm sorry, it's pretty last minute."

"_I'll_ say."

It had always been a difficult thing, these farewells, but usually Skyfire had ample time to prepare himself. Now, he was simply stunned. Skyfire stared and stared, as if waiting for her to say "just kidding," but he knew that this wasn't a joke. Now he understood her regret from earlier, but it still didn't explain why she hadn't told him sooner, or why she'd decided to tell him _here_.

Windchaser didn't return his stare, instead preferring to look off to the side. She seemed sad, and it looked like she was waiting. Waiting for him to say more.

"C-can we go somewhere?" Somewhere else, was what he meant. "I want to see you before you go..."

"He wants to fuck you," Starscream added from the sidelines.

Now Skyfire looked down, and he and Windchaser shared a moment of agonized awkwardness. For his part, Skyfire felt himself heating up, annoyed but mostly because what Starscream said was true.

Not that he had been thinking _that_ before Starscream decided to provide editorial-- but he was now.

"Here... here is fine," she said faintly.

It was disturbing that Windchaser could find Starscream's presence helpful in any way.

/It's not true,/ Skyfire said to her privately, trying to be reassuring. /I just want to talk. Don't listen to him./

/I know./ She replied, and then-- surprisingly-- she walked right up to him, pressing her forehead to his chest. /It's just... easier. I want to finish this quick./

Finish this? /What do you mean?/ he asked, feeling hollow, apprehensive. He put his arms around her, and made a point of not looking at Starscream.

/You really trust him, don't you?/

That wasn't an answer. Not really. The hollowness in his spark intensified. Unless. Had she.... did she....

/It's... it's not like that./ Windchaser thought he was in love with Starscream. That was the only explanation. /He's just my friend. _Only_ a friend. Nothing else./

She was wrong.

Windchaser's response to this bit of babble was to rub her face against his chest, negating his words, while at the same time pulling him closer. /That's not it. You're nothing if not faithful. It's just.../ There was static in the pause. /You really trust him./

The fact that she wasn't accusing him of anything made that sound even worse.

And he couldn't even deny it. He could deny that there was a relationship, because there wasn't one, and he could deny being in love, since that was certainly not true. But there was trust.

And there was desire.

Together, was that enough to sink him?

/I trust you, too,/ he said. That sounded lame, even to him. But what else could he say?

Slowly, carefully, Skyfire looked up. Starscream had stopped what he was doing, watching brazenly but with very little expression on his face. He narrowed his optics slightly when he noticed Skyfire looking at him, but whatever he saw in Skyfire's face caused him to look away with a shrug.

/He's such a jerk./ Without warning, Windchaser released him, and looked up. Catching Skyfire in the act of looking at Starscream. /But if you like him.../ She allowed that thought to trail off.

She sounded apologetic. And very sad. It was enough to break his heart.

/I don't have to go with him./

She just shook her head. /Yes you do. It's your future, right?/

/_You're_ my future./

/Not anymore./ Windchaser gave him a tremulous smile, and a small wave, twirling in that sweet way of hers. "Time for me to go." /I release you./

What? _Release_ him?

The frag?

"Please don't."

It was difficult to keep his voice steady.

Skyfire held out a hand, willing her to take it. She didn't.

/Why?/ he asked.

/This is for me, not you. I need some time to myself, to... think things through./

/A-are you breaking up with me?/ With a pang, Skyfire remembered how he'd previously declared this impossible. Oh, sweet irony.

"I have to." She paused, and then came in close. One last time, she sneaked a sideways glance at Starscream, and this time there was no hiding that she was drawing courage from the presence of her nemesis. Her optics flashed, and she drew Skyfire down for a long kiss.

A long, _last_ kiss.

"I'll... miss you, though," she added, after the kiss was over.

Before Skyfire could properly reply, Starscream piped in uninvited. "You two do realize this is _my_ lab, don't you?"

Primus. Could Starscream never just _shut up_?

But Windchaser just took that and ran with it. "A future diplomat of Cybertron, you're not," she said, falsely demure. She pointed at Starscream, winking. "Don't quit your day job."

It was kind of amazing, how she could take her hatred and loathing and twist it into a shield.

"Never fear, Autobot." Starscream drew himself up, boasting. "Ambassadors such as yourself are the reason why Cybertron requires such a robust army in the first place."

Even more amazing was how similar she and Starscream were. Skyfire wondered why he hadn't noticed it before.

In another, happier universe, perhaps all three of them could have been friends.

Finding this all to be far too much, Skyfire moved over to sit near his bench, taking a stool on the near side. He could beg some more to be allowed to follow her, or worse, he could just trail after Windchaser like a lovelorn idiot. But she'd come here because she wanted a clean break, and although he still wasn't quite sure what was actually happening, he would give her what she wanted. "Go safely," he said. /I'll be thinking about you,/ he added, privately just for her.

Windchaser nodded, and opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something more. But she didn't, and Skyfire didn't add anything either, so after a moment she waved, this time with no coy twirling, just a shy and honest goodbye.

Then she was gone.

And that was... that?

Skyfire leaned back against the bench, and looked up at the insulated ceiling. That was that.

"Are you going to mope?" Starscream, getting right to the heart of what was important.

Desire for Starscream was the most pointless, aggravating feeling in the world. Skyfire had no wish to pursue desire without love, but for Starscream, that was the only kind that mattered, or had meaning. Skyfire sighed, and didn't move. "Yes, but I'll be quiet about it. Carry on."

This response apparently caught Starscream off guard, for there was no immediate contemptuous come-back.

It was possible... likely, really, that Starscream was the least enchanting person ever. With his grating, mincingly tart persona and prickly, arrogant demeanor, he really did come off as the big jerk Windchaser advertised him to be. But there was just so much more to him, too. He was so complicated. So distinguished. So... adorable.

But what did that mean? Windchaser was the one he wanted, and she'd just walked out the door, possibly for good.

What Skyfire wanted from Starscream, he already had. They were friends. Starscream, a mech who seemed satisfied to care for no one, actually seemed to care for _him_. This was gratifying. More than gratifying, really...

_Some would say I belong to him._

This thought really, really shouldn't make him feel as good as it did.

He'd have to be an idiot to frag that up.

"I still maintain that yours is the worst relationship ever," Starscream finally said, as though making the case in point, winding up as if daring Skyfire to become openly morose. Skyfire made note of the clicking, scratching noises and surmised that Starscream had resumed cleaning his weapon, but didn't feel much like sitting up so that he could see for himself. "It would be one thing if she put out, but since she doesn't..."

Since she didn't, obviously her continued existence in Skyfire's life was mystifying to Starscream.

Well, it looked like that was a mystery that Starscream wouldn't have to worry about for all that much longer.

After several long moments in which Skyfire stubbornly refused to respond, Starscream continued. "She really kind of highlights all the things that are wrong with Autobots. Do you have any idea how entitled she is, just showing up and expecting me to let her wait for you? This is my _private_ and _sacred_ space, and she just... sits right down, not a care in the world! And almost immediately she was nagging me about you. As if I'm your slagging keeper. I don't have any idea why you put up with that. I guess it's because you're an idiot, but all the same... are you really that stupid? What kind of magical interfacing do you expect on the other side of your sparkbonding? I can already tell she's a frigid, uptight, moronic little flirt, with no natural aptitude or appetite. I feel sorry for you, really..."

And the ranting continued. Skyfire let the words wash over him. Something about Starscream's callousness was just so fetching, but he was too tired and too guilty to take pleasure in that right now. With no end in sight, Skyfire eventually sat up, so he could watch. Starscream, of course, was gratified for the attention, and just went on to achieve even greater heights of obnoxious punditry. Skyfire leaned back with one elbow on the bench, angling his weight a little so he could slouch nonchalantly. It almost felt like being bored.

Almost, but not quite.

Since when had watching Starscream become the most entertaining part of his life? Since always, it felt like.

"How dare you not listen to me! I am imparting precious wisdom, garnered from a long and varied life, full of many impressive accomplishments!"

Somehow Starscream had figured out that Skyfire had tuned him out. "Er..."

"Not good enough!" In moments Starscream was out from behind his bench, coming at him with waving arms and an expression of confrontational annoyance. It was quite the spectacle.

Skyfire didn't move. He did, however, find himself sighing.

He wasn't going to apologize. He'd learned _that_ lesson pretty damn thoroughly.

"Well?" Starscream stopped just a pace or two away, hands on his hips as he leaned forward.

It was so easy, too easy, to think wrong things. Like, wasn't that just about kissing range?

These were not thoughts he wanted to entertain.

Better to find an answer for Starscream's... concern. Best to be blunt.

"You're not very good at having friends, are you?" Skyfire really didn't know of any other way to say this.

Starscream became still, and then cold and proud. Dangerous. "Your point?"

The point was that Starscream was too adorable for words, the way he prattled on. And he was just as attractive like this, full of himself and his own arrogance.

Skyfire couldn't imagine an Autobot reacting like that. An Autobot would probably take such an observation as an accusation, and become defensive. Alternatively, an Autobot might agree with the thought, and treat it as sentiment, becoming emotional in turn. But it was simply true: Starscream wasn't good at this. The way Starscream reacted just confirmed that he acknowledged the truth. There was something astute and canny in how he accepted Skyfire's words, while simultaneously preparing himself to take offense if Skyfire decided to treat this as a weakness, or pity him for it.

This was what Decepticons were, Skyfire thought. It was what he could never be, no matter how hard he tried.

The thought filled him with weariness. "If you really want to cheer me up, why don't you just shut up and let me enjoy my quiet mope in peace?"

"You think I want to cheer you up."

Starscream was still weighing whether or not he ought to be offended. Skyfire could guarantee it.

"It's obvious. And you're terrible at it." Skyfire smiled, a thin smile.

It was stupidly endearing, the outraged look in Starscream's face (no doubt over the fact that Skyfire saw through his ingenious scheme). But Skyfire didn't really have the patience to deal with that right now, and listening to insults about Windchaser just hurt.

Slag it.

He crooked his finger. "Come closer."

"What?"

"You heard me." He paused. What was he doing?

"This had better be good," Starscream warned, but he did lean in a bit closer, narrowing his optics.

Oh, this was such a bad idea. Skyfire looked down. He couldn't very well say "never mind," that would just piss Starscream off all the more.

Starscream would never forgive him if he made him stoop for nothing.

Well, Starscream was his friend. Best to stick with that. It was hard, but he looked up, and looked directly into Starscream's optics. He reached out, placing one hand on each of Starscream's shoulders. "Thank you," he said simply. "I mean it."

Optics wide open, Starscream looked up at him, apparently too startled to respond.

It was so... it hurt. Touching Starscream like this, when it didn't matter, was going nowhere? It hurt. Skyfire felt so lonely, and Starscream was just so attractive. "I mean it," he said again, pitched even lower. "Now... may I please be excused?"

He needed to grieve... no, _mope_... in private.

Starscream was still staring at him, wary, but also appearing slightly unmoored. "I... I suppose," he said, lamely. "Yeah, sure. Go ahead."

Under other circumstances, this unguarded response would probably make Skyfire very happy. As it was, it just made him feel more miserable. With a sad sigh, Skyfire lifted his hands from Starscream's shoulders, only to briefly press one of them down on the top of Starscream's head, a casually affectionate gesture which communicated all of the simple gratitude he wanted to feel. He wished he'd been able to see it sooner, how Starscream did genuinely care for him. Perhaps he could have headed off the very unfortunate complication of his current lust.

Without waiting for any further reply, Skyfire stood, and then left.

This was going to be a problem.


End file.
